


Kus’ne Xail

by The_PrincessCat



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Battle, Canon-Typical Violence, Dothraki, Fantasy, Language Barrier, M/M, Magic, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_PrincessCat/pseuds/The_PrincessCat
Summary: When the Argentum family finds themselves in a tight spot, they come into an arrangement with a local barbaric tribe to barter their son off for marriage to their leader, Gladiolus. The entire aim for their arrangement is that the Argentum family gains protection of the lands greatest warriors. What they weren’t expecting was for the nomadic tribe to wander away, taking their son with them after their marriage.Prompto is thrown into a world that is entirely unlike the one he is used to. He is given handmaidens and while he isn’t expected to produce an heir, he is forced to at least share a bed with this tribal man who he doesn’t share a language with. Over time, they learn to live with each other as they travel and Prompto integrates with the society more and more. Eventually they actually do fall in love, but there is something strange happening in their world that will impact their new found love...
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum
Comments: 18
Kudos: 75
Collections: Promptio Big Bang 2020





	1. The Offering

Prompto was dressed in clothing that was finer than anything he had ever worn in his entire life. His parents had always pushed him aside, dressed his siblings in finer clothes and treated them like they were royalty. On the contrary, Prompto was only ever treated as a glorified servant, with barely more rights or capabilities. 

Prompto looked at himself in the mirror. His tattered shirt and pants were replaced by white and gold garments. If he hadn’t watched his parent’s’ servants dress him and bathe him, he wouldn’t have believed the man looking back at him was the same person. 

“Master Prompto.” Crowe, one of the many servants in the Argentum keep, came up to him, baring a large gold, gemmed necklace and matching bracers. “You’re supposed to wear this.” 

“I can’t wear that.” Prompto looked at how the blue and green gemstone glimmered in the natural light. 

“Your parents said it was a gift. Might be the nicest thing you’ll ever get. I’d take it, otherwise you’ll upset them.” Crowe moved up, and placed the jewelry onto Prompto. She smiled softly as she stepped away and looked at him. 

“You look nice, Prompto. Real nice.” Crowe smiled, and looked at him from head to foot. “Never looked better. You should get down to the Northern Arch. Ardyn is waiting for you.” 

“Alright, I’ll be back.” Prompto smiled, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. He rushed from his parents' manor, one of the only solid structures in the village of Lokan. His new shoes, his first pair, felt weird and soft as he ran from the center of the town to the outskirts. 

Prompto had always liked the archways that were erected along the Northern and Southern roads to the village. They were large and sturdy, carved from old trees of the Tenebraean woods. The timber had to be imported for the task, as everything that surrounded their little village was deadland. 

Coming upon the arches, Prompto placed his hand on the carved wood. He smiled, the old owl face still smooth to the touch. 

Ardyn stood straight, having been leaning against the arch when the boy approached. 

“So kind of you to finally show up.” Ardyn stretched, his long robes swinging with his movements. He yawned, looking over the horizon before returning his gaze back to him with a half smirk. 

“You are looking very charming, young master.” Ardyn moved up, almost uncomfortably close to Prompto, lifting the garments and inspecting everything. “I do believe this should do nicely.” 

“Will you tell me what this is about?” Prompto stepped back, not enjoying the way the other man was treating him. 

“Oh, my dear boy. Has no one told you what their intentions for you are?” Ardyn laughed, a noise that made Prompto feel sick. 

“No.” Prompto crossed his arms over his chest. He was never told anything important. Why would this be any different? 

“You are being used as a bargaining chip, dear boy. Your parents have found a use for you after all these years.” Ardyn floated behind him, pushing him forward towards the stairs on the other side of the arches. “You are a gift to the Cha’aka. From my understanding, you are to be betrothed to their leader in exchange for the protection of our dear village.” 

Blinking, Prompto felt his jaw dislodge itself. He looked at Ardyn. “You- No. This has to be a joke?” 

“No.” Ardyn stepped forward, staring out unto the deadlands. “Not a joke, young Prompto. In fact-”

Ardyn’s finger directed Prompto towards the dust that was being stirred in the distance. “They are on their way now. You couldn’t have made better timing.”

  
Prompto felt the world closing in on him as he tried to breathe. This was a dream, it had to be. A nightmare. He knew his adopted parents didn’t like him, but this, this was an extreme. 

“Come here, boy. Stand straight. If they don’t approve of you, then the whole deal is off.” Ardyn hissed, grabbing Prompto, forcing him to take a sharp breath in. 

Prompto stood, still as the dead. The cloud of dust was growing closer and closer. Ardyn’s words were a background noise to his own panic. Was the necklace a gift for him, or his suitor? Prompto was unsure if he was leaving, not that there was much for him here, to be married to an unknown entity. He was sure he was going to pass out until Ardyn clapped him on the back. 

Five horses rode up, five men as their riders. The first thing that Prompto noticed was that each of these perfectly toned, sun kissed men were all shirtless. Prompto pushed back the blush, taking a sharp inhale of warm, dusty tasting air. Their skin was a rich tone, and they had long, dark hair. Their eyes were brown, like most of the world they lived in. 

What he hadn’t expected was to see that the man at the head, his beautiful skin painted with an intricate visage of an eagle over his shoulders and arms, had eyes that reminded him of honeyed amber. 

The breath he so recently got back was stolen. His eyes watched as that nameless man dismounted his black stallion, and strode up the stairs towards him. 

This man wore a high waisted belt that covered most of his torso above an ornamental one, dangling several gold disks about his hips. The hide of some long dead beast hung as a flap over his hips with a tight pair of black pants underneath. He wore dark leather bracers, meant for welding a sword. That much, Prompto knew. At his back was said large sword, glimmering in the light. 

He walked straight up to Prompto, standing tall as he made one slow circle around the blond. Prompto could smell the dirt on the man, his honeyed eyes giving him a through once over. He stopped, saying one sentence to Ardyn before he once again descended the steps and mounted his horse. 

As quickly as he came, he was gone. Prompto felt his knees buckle, the air rushing into his lungs so quickly it burned. Before his knee hit the ground, Ardyn grabbed him, yanking his arm up so he didn’t fall.    
  


“We will have none of that.” Ardyn tugged Prompto back to his feet. “You are under my watch for the next week. It seems he approved of you. You will be ready when he comes for you.”

Prompto soon learned that the man with the eagle tattoo was named Gladiolus. He was a chieftain of the nomadic Cha’aka, known for their fighting skills and their breeding of wild horses. Some people called them the nomadic horsemen, others called them the ruthless warrior tribe. To Prompto, it was just nonsense. 

The clothing he wore was taken from him, stored in a box to be placed far beyond anywhere Prompto could reach. It was to be what he would wear when he was given away, the jewels a dowry to the tribe that was supposed to protect the village. 

Ardyn kept an eye on him constantly, knowing that Prompto wanted nothing more than to run away. It would have been impossible, as the next nearest village was out of walking range and the savannah lands between were impossible to travel without proper supply and knowledge of the land.

Prompto had no skills and no knowledge. His parents had made sure of that. His siblings knew magic, or were well versed in knowledge or fighting. Not Prompto. 

The week dragged on, and Prompto’s dread growing with it. On the seventh day, Prompto was woken, and prepared like a prince once more. The servants of his family washed him, as they had before. However, this time, Prompto felt the dread building in his gut more readily. In just hours he would be leaving this life behind for something unknown. 

As he dressed, he thought about the clothing the Cha’aka had worn. Prompto wondered if he would be forced to dress as them, in their near nonexistent attire. What he was wearing was over dressed in comparison. The same jewels were placed on him, causing Prompto to wonder how long they would remain with him after he was traded away. 

“You going to be alright, master Prompto?” Crowe asked, placing her elbow on his shoulder. 

“Yeah. I’ll make it through this like I made it through everything else in my life.” Prompto paused, his hand coming up to reach for Crowe’s. 

“I’m gonna miss you. You were always so kind to us.” Crowe’s free hand pulled something from a hidden pocket somewhere on her person. “The rest of the servants here think the same. So, we kinda came together and got this for you.”

Crowe stepped back, offering up what looked to be a carved wooden bracelet with an inlet where a blue stone sat. “It isn’t much, but I think it will look good on you.”

“Oh.,” Prompto pushed back the tears threatening his vision., “I love it. I’m gonna miss you guys too.”

They were his family, more so than those who had adopted him and treated him as if he never existed. Prompto turned, throwing his arms around Crowe’s neck as a few stray tears fell from his eyes. 

“Oh, Prompto. We’ll all still be here. Don’t know if you’ll be allowed to visit, but if you could-” Crowe pulled away a forced smile on her lips. “We’ll be here. You should go though. Can’t be late for your own going away. Ardyn isn’t a kind guy when he is made to wait.

“You’ll do great.” 

Prompto left, walking the streets for the last time, the single sack of his belongings slung over his shoulder. It didn’t contain much, but it felt like it weighed more than he was able to carry. It was his whole life, on his back, and it was a burden. A reminder of his past. 

For what little time it had taken him to get to the edge of town, Prompto felt like he had walked most of Eos. In reality, it had only taken a couple of minutes. When he arrived, Ardyn was standing lazily against the same pillar he had a week ago. 

  
“Well, I am glad you could finally join us.” Ardyn yawned, stretching and rubbing the dust off his garments, although, from what Prompto saw, he was completely devoid of any dirt. 

“Yeah, well,” Prompto didn’t really want to small talk with Ardyn, so he chose to keep his mouth shut as they waited. 

While the plains before them were empty, Prompto turned his attention back to the village he grew up in. There weren't a lot of good memories there, but it was all he knew. What was going to happen now? It was all unknown. 

“Here they come.” Ardyn spoke in a singsong. “You better be ready.” 

Ardyn moved his hand to Prompto’s shoulder, pulling Prompto from his thoughts and towards the riders. Prompto moved his hand to his chest., The expensive fabric felt unfamiliar under his fingers. His chest felt like it was being compressed, as if the world was strangling him. 

Was this his goodbye party? His parents had forbidden their servants to see him off, and not even his parents wanted to be here. He was just another piece of meat to be traded away for their betterment. 

Prompto felt the tears brimming on the edge of his eyes. He wouldn’t let himself cry as the clouds of dust turned into horses with riders. His last moments in his village. 

Ardyn spoke to the horsemen upon their arrival, a language that Prompto knew not. He simply stood there, waiting for what was to come. He noticed, however, a white saddled horse that had come with no rider. Was that to be his? 

Ardyn turned to Prompto, one arm stretched out towards the eagle tattooed man. “They are here for you. Go now.” 

It happened so quickly. Worldless, Prompto was grabbed, hands on his arms, and lifted into the saddle atop the white mare. The saddle was old, worn and used. It was simple, not adorned with jewels as Prompto had seen other horsemen who’d come through their settlement. In fact, as he adjusted into the discomfort of the seat, the clothing he was wearing was not meant to ride a horse. Though Prompto also noticed that the other horses didn’t have saddles. Instead, there were thick blankets and furs, no stirrups or reins. Prompto had never ridden a horse, but he had had to remove saddles and reins from the horses of the guests his parents sometimes kept. 

Ardyn and Gladio exchanged sentences. The words that were spoken towards him made no sense. Prompto's fingers gripped at the soft white mane of his horse, not sure what was expected of him. He was trying to push back the upset, the tears that threatened burning at his eyes. 

Just as quickly as this group of five men had come, the group of six departed. Prompto was startled, leaning forward as his horse seemed to respond to the commands and actions of the other horses around him. He was not in control of her, although she seemed to sense his fear, and kept an even trot as they stirred the dry earth beneath their hooves. 

After a while, Promto felt that the pacing of his horse had slowed. He didn’t remember when he’d closed his eyes, letting the constant gallop sooth his nerves. Lavender eyes peeled open, to reveal that Gladio had been keeping pace beside him. Prompto felt a blush, as he looked away, trying not to focus too much on the other man.

The land around them was completely barren, no sign of visible life in any direction. The tall dry grasses waved in the wind, and the trees sparsely scattered in the distance. This was further than he had ever been from home. Prompto had always known that life outside of his village was few and far between, at least until they made it to one of the towns that surrounded them. 

The village of Lokan, the village run by the Argentums, was a waypoint on the journey between Lanaal and Tleex. It was a three day ride on horseback to either destination from Lokan, and thus, if they were not prepared for that journey, they would die in the hot and dry savannah. 

Lokan was a miracle, Prompto’s parents had told him. The oasis at the back of their property provided life for the people of Lokan, and it was by the oasis’s grace that Prompto was alive. Of course, the Argentums used the oasis to boast what feigned wealth and status they had. 

Prompto looked back at Gladio, who was now focusing on directing them towards what was very obviously a tent city in the distance. The words he spoke were strong, the actions without hesitation. The men with them acted without words, two of them spurring their horses forward to beat them to the tent city. 

Gladio then turned to Prompto, speaking to him. Prompto felt his heart drop as they made just as much sense to him as anything else had. Prompto looked down, staring at his hands, still firmly gripping the coarse hairs of his horse's mane. He was lonely already. 

They moved into town and Prompto looked at all the new faces and the dress that he didn’t understand. The men were dressed wearing less than Gladio was, simple shorts and furs. The women had tops that covered little, crossed to cover not much more than their breasts. 

Prompto pulled his head away, the lewd amount of clothing forcing him to blush bright red. They were dressed minimally, showing off skin, and many even had tattoos or tribal paint similar to Gladio’s, although none were as large or impressive as his. Prompto did notice that those wandering about were all very well built, having strength that far exceeded his own. 

The horses came to a stop at the entrance of the largest tent where several women waited. They were not clothed like the others, wearing full shirts and having solid metal bracelets and tight collared necklaces to match.

As soon as Gladio dismounted from his horse, they began to remove the riding hides and took the horse around the side of the tent. Prompto watched them work, wordlessly doing their job. He had been so engrossed in the others that he hadn’t noticed an older woman approaching him until she cleared her throat. 

“Are you in need of assistance?” Her voice was flat, and almost cold in the warmth of the late morning. Yet, Prompto’s head whipped to her, eyes wide as a smile came to his lips. She was speaking a language he understood. 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” With help, Prompto dismounted the horse. He looked up at her while the others took off her saddle and hides before taking her away. He hadn’t noticed, sitting atop her, that she was so much larger than him. 

“Follow me.” The woman spoke, her hands folding in front of her long skirt. Comparatively speaking, she was dressed modestly, and, besides the silver accents, held no further jewelry or fancy embellishments. Her hair was done up in a simple hairdo, unlike the long braids with beads and feathers that the others wore. 

Prompto did as he was told, following the woman into the tent. It was very large and open, almost to Prompto's shock. There was a pile of hay directly to the right of the doorway. It was rustled only slightly, and had two large bowls of water placed to the back side of the pile. At the far end of the tent was a large raised area and what appeared to be a bed. The pile of hides, on top of what Prompto assumed was hay or something more sturdy, was large enough for Gladio to rest on plus another. Prompto was the other. He was certain of that.

“My name is Monica.” The gray haired lady spoke as she moved over to a table where clothing had been laid out. “I am here to help you adjust to living in the ‘Waasdeil’. Language, culture, and prepare you for your marriage in the fall. Gladio brought these clothes here for you in case you wish to change into something more comfortable.”

Prompto stared down at the clothing on the crudely made, makeshift table, his hands running over the soft silks he was wearing. He swallowed hard, not feeling at all comfortable wearing them, it was true. “Okay.” 

Monica picked up the garments, hides, leathers and woven fabrics fashioned into something more elegant. They were not exactly what the slaves were wearing, nor was it as revealing as what those who were obviously Cha’aka wore. Monica helped Prompto strip, taking the old clothing and placing it at the bottom of an empty chest with the jewelry that he had been given by his parents. Perhaps that was Gladio’s now. He was uncertain where he stood.

Once he changed, he looked at himself. Prompto wore tan pants, fitted to near perfection. They were more comfortable than what he wore when he had lived with his parents, and yet they felt odd. His shirt was loose fitted cotton, likely something that had been traded for instead of made by those in the tribe.

“Gladio has also arranged some gifts for you, if you are ready.” Monica spoke patiently, her eyes never leaving Prompto. 

Prompto felt a little overwhelmed with even the simplest of things. Everything was changing, and he had no say in it. “Lead the way.” 

Prompto followed, Monica exiting the tent and holding the flap for him to exit. Outside was the same horse he had come on. Now that he wasn’t being whisked away, Prompto was able to finally give her a good look. 

Her shoulder was around the height of his own, and she stamped restlessly while someone gently stroked her long elegant neck. Without the reins on, Prompto could see the triangular shape of her face, the thin muzzle and the elegant gray star on her forehead. She looked like she was standing on stilts, her legs tall and lean while the rest of her was muscular and strong. 

“She is yours, a gift from Gladio.” Monica gestured to the horse, her high placed tail flicking from side to side as she looked at Prompto. “She likes you.”

Prompto nervously stepped forward, his hand coming to her chest. She lowered her head, placing her neck on Prompto’s shoulder. Her chin nuzzled Prompto’s back, and she pulled him in closer, giving him a hug. While it was awkward, in that moment, Prompto lost his control. 

He cried. The week’s worth of stress and the future of uncertainty was weighing heavily on him. 

The horse remained in place, having gone still while Prompto dug his fingers into her chest. She only let go when Prompto pushed away, stamping slightly.

That was when Prompto realized that Gladio was now standing and staring at him. His expression was flat, and his eyes seemed to be trying to look through Prompto. 

Gladio spoke, the words low and gravelly. Prompto stared at the man, the native language completely unlike anything that Prompto had ever heard. While he felt better after his cry, he wasn’t sure he was ready for whatever Gladio wanted from him. 

“Gladio asked if you like your gifts.” Monica shifted her attention from Gladio to Prompto. 

“The horse?” Prompto spoke and the words were mimicked back to Gladio in his language. 

“She seems to like you.” Monica spoke the words that Gladio had said, and Prompto realized that until he learned this language, it was going to be uncomfortable communicating with him. 

“I do.” Prompto placed his hand on the horse's chest, looking into her light brown eyes. “Does she have a name?”

“No.”

Prompto was silent for a while, his hands idly brushing her. “Star. Can I name her Star?”

“Absolutely.” 

That was the first smile Prompto had, lips curling up slowly and softly. He repeated her name slowly on his lips, and for a moment it was all the happiness he needed. The swinging of emotions was strong and the accompanied dizziness almost made Prompto fall over. 

Gladio spoke, addressing someone in the big voice of his. Prompto watched his lips move, wishing that he could understand what he was saying. He turned to Monica, and when she didn’t translate, Prompto simply turned to Star. 

“I guess we’re in this together.”


	2. Waasdeil  Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto has to learn what its like living in a tent city in an unfamiliar world.

Prompto woke when the sun came up through the open tent flap. He had fallen asleep on the large pile of hides that Gladio used as a bed. There had been more tears, and thankfully nothing further. Star and Gladio’s horse, Latse, had slept in the hays nearer to the front of the stable. Monica had informed the emotional Prompto that the horses were not tools used by the Cha’aka, but they were family. There was no reason to not house them in their tents with them. 

Prompto had been restless in the hides after Gladio had woken early. He had drifted in and out of conscious thought for most of the morning afterwards, listening to when the horses were brought out of the tent, and when only one set of hooves returned. 

When Prompto finally decided to get up, it was to the smell of sweet bread and warm apples. Prompto yawned, surprised to see not Monica or Gladio but another man standing before him. He was tall, black hair in neat braids and small tattoos about his face and wrists. He was wearing a half shirt that exposed some burns about his chest. 

It wasn’t until the man cleared his throat that Prompto realized he was staring.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Prompto realized that this man couldn’t understand him. His eyes downcast as his ears burned with the embarrassment of the situation. 

“It is alright.” The words coming from the man were startling, and Prompto forced himself to look back up at him. When he did, lavender blue eyes wide with surprise, there was a smile on the man’s lips. 

“Yes. I speak your tongue. My name is Nyx.” 

“Nyx.” Prompto let the name sit on his tongue for a moment as Nyx used that time to set the plate down on the hides next to him. 

“I am here to teach you to ride your horse.” Nyx smiled, and it was warm. Prompto could also tell that this tongue was not his first language. 

“Alright.” Prompto grabbed the warm bread, moaning as it hit his mouth. The rich flavors, the cinnamon, were almost like air as he chewed. He closed his eyes for a moment, before looking back to Nyx. “This is really tasty!”

Once Prompto was finished with his breakfast, Nyx led him and Star out of the tent and towards the outskirts of town. The whole tent city was filled with life. They had been up for a very long time, most likely when the sun came up. The horses seemed to just go to and fro as they pleased. It was an odd feeling, seeing how this culture was so much different than what he was used to. 

There was a rounded, crudely fenced area where they were led into, and Prompto noticed that Monica was there, waiting for them. “Master Prompto.”

“Monica.” Prompto was nervous now. What was he expected to learn? Horses? Nyx, however, was placing the same saddle that they had dressed Star in when they had come to collect him. She was calm as the blanket was placed on her, but turned a little sour when the actual saddle was strapped in place. She calmed quickly, however, stomping her irritation mildly. 

Prompto couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of it, turning his attention back to Monica when she cleared her throat. 

“Star, as you have named her, is a two year old horse. Gladio has done some minor work in her training, but it is up to you to bring her to temper and to bond with her.” Monica led Prompto to Star, placing her hand gently on her shoulder. 

“Why me? I’ve never ridden a horse before yesterday.” Prompto looked at Nyx who had brought over his own horse, who without a lead simply walked at his shoulder. Nyx’s horse was a black and white piebald. He walked tall and proud, his chest leading the walk. 

“It is a trial, a test to become part of the tribe.” Monica spoke simply, her hands idly petting Star’s chest. 

Prompto shook his head, looking down to his feet. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to be accepted as part of the tribe, but what choice did he have? Looking up, he saw Monica, waiting patiently for him to come back down. Prompto let out a sigh, centering himself as best as he was able. 

“Okay?” Prompto bit his lip, moving to place his hand on Star’s chest. “What will that entail?”

It wasn’t Monica that answered, however. Nyx had come over to them. “You will learn to ride Star. Learn to ride unsaddled. Teach Star commands, and create a successful relationship with her and you.” 

It sounded like Prompto was going to have his hands full. Even so, as he scrambled onto her back he felt like she was in control and not him. 

They spent the entire morning working on Prompto’s confidence. When Nyx got frustrated or didn’t know the word to explain himself, he fell into his native tongue. It was in those moments that Prompto really felt uncertain of his abilities. If Gladio had known how inept he was, would he have agreed to take him as his husband?

Prompto pushed on, long after his ass had gone numb, and his arms were tired from steering Star here and there. It wasn’t until his stomach made a loud protest that they decided it was enough for the day. 

Star stamped happily when the saddle was removed, jovially trotting and kicking as she made a lap around the pen. Prompto smiled, feeling some sort of kinship with her as she came to follow them from the pen, which was left open as they walked back towards the tents. 

Nyx’s horse fell in line with Star, and they seemed to be deep in some unknown conversation. The low guttural grunts, the heavy exhale of breath through their lips and mouth, and the soft snorts seemed to make just as much sense as the words that Nyx and Monica exchanged. 

It was almost musical, and Prompto closed his eyes and just listened. In Lokan, everything was more silent. The main streets were cobbled, and when they had visitors, the whole town transformed. Normally, it was a soft rolling of wind and the occasional laughter of children. 

When Prompto heard his name, he opened his eyes, realizing that he had started smiling. 

“We are having lunch in the dining tent.” Monica spoke, directing them as two other slaves took away the horses. 

Prompto could smell the roasting meats before he could see it, his stomach reiterating its earlier comment. That was a language he didn’t need a translator for.

The dining tent, as Monica had said, was more like an elevated tarp on sticks. There were multiple poles holding the ceiling up, giving it the visage of being a wave. The center of said tarp was carved out, and directly under it was a large cooking fire with a spit. On the spit was a large animal., Prompto wanted to believe it was a hog of some kind, but he felt that he couldn’t be certain. 

There were groups of people huddled in circles as they spoke and ate off of flat pressed wood and carved bowls. They didn’t eat with silverware or any cutlery that Prompto could see. They all stopped their conversations when he entered. For the first time he really understood how much of an outsider he was. 

Prompto’s ears burned from the embarrassment, his eyes shooting to the floor as he froze in place. He stood there for what felt like an eternity until a large, firm hand clapped him on the back. Prompto’s head shot up, the embarrassment leaping from ears to the exposed parts of his chest. 

Gladio stood, all extra foot of him, over Prompto. His honeyed eyes were soft, pleading with him that everything was okay. Gladio didn’t bother to speak, knowing full well the language barrier that was there. There was, and Prompto had to blink to make sure he saw it, the soft curling of perfectly full lips. He was smiling. 

When Prompto smiled ever so slightly back, Gladio tore his gaze from him and spoke. Prompto was positive that he had never heard anyone speak with such a commanding tone in his life. The words sounded harsh, as if they were threats or insults. Prompto tilted his head, wondering if Gladio was standing up for him. Yet, Prompto could only guess, and read the body language of the tribe. That proved to be an easy task. 

Those gathered flinched away from the words, eyes diverting to the ground or towards the food in their laps. Prompto could see many of them wanted to speak out, but they bit down their insubordination, swallowing it as soon as it was formed.

Monica confirmed his suspicions, “He told them that you are his betrothed. Any slight against you is a slight against him.”

It was just that Prompto didn’t understand why Gladio would do that. He was nothing, a poor adopted son of some wannabe lords who traded him away for protection. Gladio was a King in comparison, and all these people looked up to him. It made no sense. 

Even as Prompto was taken under Gladio’s wing, as it were, he contemplated exactly what Gladio thought of him. Not far from the cooking pit, there was a mounded structure, vaguely resembling that of a long chair or a lounge. There were furs tossed over whatever they had used to structure the throne. It looked almost royal. 

Prompto was led up the three steps, and Gladio gestured for him to sit on the bench next to him. He did as he was told, and before he could blink, a plate, a cup and a bowl were brought to him by slaves. Prompto blinked, accepting the morsoles hungrily. He pinned the conversation about the slaves for later, and decided to just dig in. 

Who knew horseback riding was so exhausting? 

After lunch, Nyx retrieved Prompto from the place he ate. Monica had stood behind him all the while, and as they left Gladio in place, he questioned her. “Why don’t you eat?”

“I will eat when my tasks are finished,” was all that she said. 

Language was next, and not but half an hour in, Prompto’s head hurt after only an hour of it. Nyx sat with him and Monica, They had been focusing on the basics, foods, animals, colors, and currently, Prompto was stuck on the word for a chipmunk.    
  


“Okay, but really. When am I going to need to know the word for chipmunk?” Prompto huffed, the frustration bubbling in his chest as Monica wrote out the word again on the parchment for him. 

“You never know. Simple words are best for learning.” Monica repeated herself, showing the parchment to Prompto. 

Groaning, Prompto tried the word again. Writing was a formality, as the Cha’aka language was never written down as such. Monica was using the common language to write it out phonetically, for Prompto’s benefit. 

They continued to work until dinner, and Prompto found he was absolutely exhausted and his body was still feeling the strain put on it from the early morning riding lesson. 

The dining tent, Prompto had learned it was called the Aatyadaa, was even more full than it had been the previous meal. People were sitting back to back, the scent of dirt and sweat mingled with the hardy and sweet notes of the roasted meats. The fire under the spit was out, and there were two large men with carving knives slicing the meat from the beast, placing them on the pressed wooden plates. 

Prompto spoke the word softly under his breath, repeating it until he was sure he couldn't forget it. He spoke the word for the plates, the words for the tent, the words for the roast hog. It was a lot, and it was a challenge he had been set. 

Monica led Prompto up to the mounded furs, Gladio sitting there with a large hide tankard in his grip. There was a soft smile on his lips as he placed his free hand on the space next to him. Prompto felt his ears warm as he followed. Monica took her place half way up the pile, directing the food and strong smelling liquid into his grasp. 

Gladio spoke, and as much as Prompto wished him to be speaking to him, it was Monica who responded. They spoke over him for a moment before she departed, and Prompto was left to just stare at the man next to him. It had been a little over a day that he had been there, and everything still felt foreign, unknown. 

Without thinking, Prompto took a sip of the liquid. The sweet and tart liquid rushed his senses, and as it rushed down his throat, he coughed. Alcohol. With watery eyes, Prompto watched as several people were suddenly in his line of sight. He waved at them, swallowing hard as he sat up straight, feeling the light patting of a large hand on his back. 

In the few moments it took Prompto to right himself, he realized that all the eyes of the tent were on him, and Gladio was speaking to him. There was a voice to his left that was translating. 

“Are you alright? What is wrong?” 

Prompto nodded, clearing his throat once more. “Yeah. I’m good.” He managed to wheeze, the stink of alcohol finally leaving his lungs. 

There were more words exchanged. Prompto simply went to sip at the brew. He had never been allowed alcohol before, his parents keeping the cellar locked and only letting the ‘main family’ indulge in the treat when they had guests. Already, Prompto could feel his limbs growing warm and heavy as another cup was brought to him. 

Prompto ate the meat, drank the berry wine. They were paired so nicely. The dry rub that had been applied to the hog, the wood that had been burned to cook the beast, even the sauce that was drizzled ever so slightly over the slightly dry cut was cooked to perfectly pair with the sweet singing notes of the wine. There was a mashed vegetable blend that was also coated in the sauce; Prompto cleared the plate of all its contents, and drained the hide flagon of the sweet wine.

By the end of dinner, Prompto couldn’t keep the smile from his lips. The camp tilted on its side, the fire danced, and even when he was addressed in the common tongue, Prompto couldn’t understand what was being asked of him. Instead of responding, Prompto giggled. 

At one point, the empty plate and flagon were removed from him, and Prompto was left with a full cup of water. They stood, Gladio’s hand to Prompto’s back steadying him. 

“You are really-” Prompto giggled, looking up at the warm honey eyes. “Solid.” 

They walked together. The hum of words and music came from somewhere towards the tents. Prompto was sat down, Gladio next to him. His eyes glazed on the fire and the source of the music became clear. To Gladio’s other side, two drums and a woodwind of sorts were being played. Before the large fire, men and women danced. Their movements mimicked the sway and crackle of the blaze. 

Prompto sipped the cool water, eyes and mind completely enthralled by the movement of the bodies before him. It took longer than it should have to realize that these dancers were wearing far less than they normally were. As the realization dawned on him, Prompto brought up his finger to point. “They’re naked.” 

Prompto was the only one to respond with words, and he found Gladio’s hand on his wrist. He placed the pointing hand into his lap, “Pointing is rude.” The words came from a soft female voice. 

“Sorry.” Prompto swayed, looking for the source of the voice, finding none. The world moved to the sound of the music. Pounding drums like steady horse hooves on earth and soaring notes that were like the early morning bird song. 

Eyes closed, Prompto felt his head gently collide with something warm and soft. Startled, his eyes opened, the cup slipping from his grasp. It had been Gladio’s side.    
  
Apologetic eyes looked up to Gladio, who was looking warmly down at him. Prompto pulled away, and Gladio’s arm came to wrap around his waist, pulling his head into his chest. 

“You’re so warm.” The words slurred from Prompto’s lips, between the warm kiss of the fire and the unfamiliar warmth of another pressed into his skin. Prompto hummed, his body feeling heavy and unwilling to move to his commands.    
  


“Sorry.”

The world tilted once more. Prompto’s feet were no longer touching ground. He was floating. 

No. 

Prompto opened his eyes to see Gladio was holding him tightly to his chest. He stared at him while he was carried, watching his long dark eyelashes blink, the full curve of his lips. There was a calming nature about the way Gladio’s breathing shifted him slightly. 

“I‘m such a burden.” The words slipped from Prompto’s lips before he could stop them and he tilted his head, abashed. They were moving away from the sounds of music, dancing and voices. 

“What am I kidding?” Prompto sighed, closing his eyes once more. “You can’t understand me anyway.”

It was only moments before he was placed onto the soft furs that he recognized as his bed. Another heart beat, and the warmth of a blanket was pulled up to his shoulder. Then, unexpectedly, there were large fingers petting through his hair. Prompto’s eyes opened, a gasp of surprise forced from his lungs as he saw Gladio gently stroking his head. 

It felt nice, Prompto had to admit to himself. The movement was methodical, and the consistency of it drew Prompto into quick and peaceful sleep. 

Prompto woke up suddenly, his entire body feeling a quick sweat on his brow. His eyes opened to the tent and the darkness that was thick around them. Head spinning and stomach lurching, Prompto fell from the bed, stumbling through the large tent. He passed the horses, who both stomped in confusion, but otherwise did not move. 

The outside air hit Prompto’s face like ice, sending chills all over his body. He made it two steps out before he wrenched over and let the contents of his stomach expel themselves on the dirt. 

It was as if Gladio was summoned, and the large man was behind Prompto. His large hands ran circles on Prompto’s back, soothing him until he was done. If his head had hurt before, it was splitting open at the seams now. 

Gladio spoke, and there was a flurry of many bodies moving around. When he was done retching, Gladio lifted him once again and they made their way back inside the tent. As he was laid back down, his whole body sweating, and stomach feeling raw, multiple things happened at once. A cold compress was placed to his head, a cup was shoved into his hand and a strange scent came to him. 

“Alcohol poisoning.” The words came to his ears, as he was coaxed into drinking. At first, Prompto thought that it was water, the cool liquid feeling so nice on his throat. However, like with the wine from the night before, he almost coughed on an unexpected spice. The bite took him a moment before his mind caught up with what it was. Ginger. 

He drank the whole cup before he was allowed to lie down. However, between the earthy incense and the liquid, Prompto was already feeling better. Gladio’s low voice spoke, and he wanted so badly to understand what he was saying. 

“Sleep. It’ll be better in the morning.”

Prompto did as he was bade, sleep coming swift once again. 

After the first night, Prompto was allowed to drink only a single glass of wine at a time. He had slept until mid morning, and hadn’t been willing to do much before lunch. As a result, his riding lesson, which was a blessing with the way that Prompto felt, was suspended for that day and that day only. 

Time seemed to move quickly around Prompto, the ground shifting at every new task he was given. He and Star were starting to work more as a team, Prompto knowing how she was and vice versa. Their lessons began to shorten, and Prompto was taught other tribal activities. 

Prompto found that basket weaving was rather enjoyable, learning to make something that was strong and would hold the weight of heavy necessities. There was archery, which came extremely easily to him. After only a few hours, he was better than many of the children he was learning with. Prompto had received a large grin from Gladio for that, and his heart had jumped. That smile was imprinted in his memory. 

It wasn’t until one morning, as he parted ways with Gladio after breakfast, briefly saying his awkward parting words in Gladio’s native tongue, that he realized there was little variance in his routine. 

It had been a little over a month that Prompto had been there, and his routine was almost the same every day. The first matter of business was training with Star and Nyx. Prompto had even started to learn the names of the children who played in his path.

He spoke ‘morning’ to each of them as they giggled and waved, gesturing and speaking with their crude toys. Prompto still didn’t understand much of what they said, but he smiled back at them, feeling their pure happiness at his presence. 

Nearier to the training pen, Prompto had begun to notice that the tents were not as large as in the central area. When he had asked Monica about it, she had said these tents belonged to the slaves and servants. 

“Slaves.” Prompto let the word slip from his mouth as he looked at the tents he passed twice a day. There were a dozen or so tents, and Prompto had seen their inhabitants wandering about the camp working and doing as they were bade. 

Every time that Prompto had brought up the topic with Monica, she had shut him down, not wanting to talk about it. Nyx seemed to just shrug it off, telling him that it was the way of things. Prompto had never met a slave in the time he had lived in Lokan, although he had not been so naive to think they didn’t exist. 

It was common for those of high born status to have slaves, often prisoners of wars long over or from recent conquests. While noble families sometimes had a few slaves, they mostly used servants. These were all facts that Prompto knew. 

Star was standing in the center of the pen when Prompto arrived. She wore the bridle and reins as well as a thick blanket over her back. They had moved from the saddle to the blanket only earlier in the week, and Prompto was still getting used to the different feeling. Star, on the contrary, seemed happier at the change. 

In Monica’s hands was something that he used, typically, later in the day before his language lesson. It was a bow and a quiver. 

“You will learn to shoot from horseback.” Nyx spoke, first in the common tongue, and then repeated himself in the language of the Cha’aka. 

“What?” Prompto shook his head, knowing that he was not ready for something like this. 

“You have shown to be a good archer. This is a skill you may need.” Again, the words were repeated twice, Nyx swinging off the side of his horse to come over to Prompto. 

“Learning to control your mount with your legs instead of your reins is important. It frees your hands.”

It proved to be difficult and the bow felt odd in Prompto’s hands instead of the reins. Nyx had no expectation of Prompto to be able to actually shoot from horseback. Yet. The reins were to be slowly taken away in place for the ability to control Star with gentle squeezing and nudging. It was just when he had started to feel more confident in his ability to ride horseback, and it was changing. 

Every time Prompto broke through the fog, the mountain was even taller still. He was fighting an uphill battle. 

Frustration won out, and Prompto dismounted Star. Normally, he stayed to remove her blanket and put everything away. Today, Prompto was upset, and Star was reacting to it. 

Nyx called after him, speaking rapidly so Prompto didn’t understand him. He didn’t care. None of this had been his choice. This life here, it was better than the life his adopted parents gave him, but it wasn’t fair. None of it was. 

A firm hand wrapped around his biceps. It happened so quickly that it was almost like whiplash. There was a tingling in his fingers and arm, as Prompto reached for Nyx’s hand. Nyx recoiled as a surge of energy transferred from one hand to the other. He looked at Prompto in awe, blinking as Prompto took the moment of stunned silence to continue on his way. 

Prompto didn’t stop as he moved through the camp. The murmuring from those working around him was like a buzz as his heart beat faster and faster. It wasn’t until he had reached the last edge of the tents that he chanced a glance behind him. 

Nyx had stopped following him.

Prompto let his legs collapse under him, his eyes moving to his hands. There was a tingling remaining at the tips of his fingers. Had that come from him? That was impossible, Prompto was nothing special. He had been told that his whole life. Prompto was simply Prompto. 

Time passed, if the only recognition of such was the shifting of the shade caused by the ascent of the sun. Prompto reasoned that it had been in his imagination. That was, until he was pulled from his thoughts by a firm grip. 

Lavender eyes glanced up, and Prompto suddenly felt ashamed. Gladio was glancing down at him, with a gentle expression that made his cheeks pink. He spoke, and Prompto understood only a few words. If Prompto was guessing correctly, Gladio was asking if he was okay or if he was going to be okay. 

Prompto nodded, “Yes.” He spoke in Gladio’s tongue as he took the hand that was offered to him and was pulled to his feet. 

Gladio spoke more as they moved towards the meal tent, and that was where Gladio lost him. He stared at the ground, mostly, the soft leather shoes he wore bringing up small dirt clouds with his movement. His head perked up when Gladio spoke the word ‘Special’ and Prompto shook his head. 

“No. I’m not special.” Prompto looked up, shaking his head. This was something that Prompto was certain of. He was not special, and he never would be. 

“You are more special than you believe.” Gladio spoke, and the words sent goosebumps over his flesh. 

Prompto opted to not respond, pretending that he had not understood his words. They took their place on the furs, their lunch being served to them as always. Gladio placed his hand reassuringly on Prompto’s thigh. 

While he might not be special, he did want to belong. There was something between him and Gladio, even if it was slow and misunderstood. What Prompto did know was that Gladio made him feel something different. It was as if for the first time in his life, Prompto was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Latse - Gladio’s horse’s name. From Tlingit ‘latseen’ meaning strength/power\  
> Aatyadaa - Dining tent. From Tlingt ‘atýá’ meaning food or meal and ‘Xwaasdáa’ meaning ‘tarp’ or tent’
> 
> Thank you for reading. I had a lot of fun with playing in Prompto’s mind. With no one to talk to or be friends with it would seem logical to feel unstable. 
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	3. The Ya’aga Daahid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Prompto is accustomed to the place they were living, he is brutally reminded that the Cha'aka are nomadic. While the world shifts below his feet, Prompto must also learn the many wedding traditions within two months time.

Monica had warned Prompto about moving day. Still, the morning came and Prompto felt a tightening in his chest. It was impossible to sleep in. By the time the sun had peeked over the horizon, the first moments of sun kissing the dirt, the entire camp was up and packing everything away. 

Even as early as Prompto had risen, Gladio was not present when he finally pulled himself from the furs. It was chilly, but soon the sun would be beating down with the summer heat, and Prompto would be wishing for the cool morning air. 

Leaving the tent, nothing looked the same. Few tents were still standing, and all the slaves were busying themselves with packing everything into wagons or onto horseback. One of the few tents still standing was the meal tent, which Prompto headed towards. 

To his surprise, the tent was mostly empty and Gladio was also not there. Furrowing his brow, and climbing the furs, Prompto started to wonder if there was something wrong. Gladio had never missed a meal, but then again, Prompto knew nothing about what it would take to get an entire tent city packed and moved. 

Prompto didn’t notice as a bowl of grains and meat was brought to him. His mind wandered as he ate, eyes dancing around the mostly empty tent. He ate, absentmindedly bringing spoonfuls of the porridge to his lips. It wasn’t until the bowl was empty that Gladio entered the tent. 

His features changed from serious to something softer at the sight of Prompto. A deep blush cascaded over freckled checks as he placed the bowl down onto a flat surface. 

“Morning.” It was one of the words Prompto was most confident in, and Gladio smiled in return. 

Gladio came to one knee in front of the blond, and swept his hand from his lap. Large lush lips brushed his hand, causing the blush to creep down Prompto’s neck. “Morning, little sunflower.”

It was a nickname he had been given, Monica saying both for his smile and for the bright yellow hair atop his head. Prompto had never had a nickname, and this one caused him to go red every time. Gladio seems to enjoy making Prompto flush, and he took every opportunity to do so. 

Gladio sat, speaking words, of which Prompto only caught a few. ‘Move’, ‘ready’ and ‘soon’ were the extent of what was understood. Without Monica around, Prompto was forced to guess. He nodded, biting his lip. It was frustrating in part, but Gladio always did seem to try and make Prompto understand. 

They didn’t talk much, and after Gladio had eaten his own meal, he stepped from the furs. Turning around, he offered his hand to Prompto and they left the tent together. 

It was amazing how quickly the city packed up and the only structure still standing was the place they had just left. Prompto’s jaw fell as Nyx approached with Star and a large Friesian, which Prompto assumed was Gladio’s horse. They were both saddled and ready to ride. They wore less than many of the other horses but what they did have made them stand out. 

The saddles were more ornately decorated than before. The furs under the packs were crisp and seemed to sparkle in the light, the freshly tanned leather bridles and their hair had been braided with added beads. It was obvious that this was to distinguish Prompto and Gladio as the heads of their procession. 

It was all happening so quickly. As Prompto mounted Star, he felt all the emotions bottled within him bubbling up to the surface. Everything here, in this horse filled clearing, had started to feel like home. Just as his feet had begun to feel grounded. Prompto looked to the tent that now lay on the ground. Two slaves were rolling and folding the furs and taking the large tree poles and placing them on a wagon with others. 

Nothing would ever be the same again. 

~~~~

The days that followed were not like those that had come before. Long days in the saddle were hard and uncomfortable. Around mid-day, Prompto felt his back seize up as the slow trot jostled him. By nightfall, his limbs were stiff and he wanted nothing more than to curl up on his pallet with all the soft furs, to sleep and cry. 

The first several days, Prompto had not said anything about these problems for fear that he would upset Gladio. By the fourth day of all day travel, Prompto could no longer hide the limp in his walk nor the way he winced when he went to sit down for their meals. 

Gladio noticed immediately, and while Prompto still understood little of what he said, Monica had told him that they would cut their travel short every day so that Prompto could receive therapeutic massages. 

It was a clansmen by the name of Pelna who ended up giving him these massages. He had been gentle, and after their hour, Prompto had been able to walk. Thanking him, Prompto had found that the darker skinned man knew less of the common language than Gladio. 

Disappointment and frustration set in as Prompto pulled his knees into his chest and cried. 

After a full week of travel, Gladio had decided to rest for two days, before they would begin their move again. It was to Prompto’s great relief, but during this time, there was a lot more that suddenly became expected of him. It was after this announcement that Monica had come to Prompto, an even more serious expression on her face than normal. 

“Is everything okay?” Prompto had asked as they sat on his bed pallet. 

“Yes.” Monica stood, looking at him with appraising eyes. “Two moons from now, you will be wed. There is much to learn in a short time.”

Prompto felt his chest tighten, and he instinctively glanced towards the tent entrance. Was Gladio just on the other side of it listening and waiting? 

“Two moons?” Prompto’s voice sounded harsh and dry as he whispered the words. 

“We shall be traveling for seven days and resting for two until we reach the Ya’age Daahid, or in common terms The Rock of Spirit. It is a most sacred place for all of our people. All the Cha’aka Aanaawa marry here, and Gladio is no exception to this. 

“In this time, you will learn the ceremony of marriage, the words you will speak, and the customs associated with your marriage.” Monica hadn’t moved the whole time, but Prompto suddenly felt the desire to squirm. He had known that he was to be married, but the fact that it was actually happening , it made him nervous. 

“Is it,” Prompto began, but found the words were stuck. He cleared his throat, and forced himself to continue. “Is it hard?”

Monica pondered that question for a moment, eyes looking off to the side, only briefly. “No. It is not hard, but there is much to know and little time to impress that knowledge. We will be working, on our travel days for a few hours, and on the days of rest, most of the day between the other tasks you have been given.”

The next morning he was woken early, earlier than on their travel days, by Monica. She had not warned him that this would take place, but as he moved through the chilly predawn air, he wished she would have told him. He ate and then was taken to a small tent near his own. 

Upon entering, an elder man sat on furs at a low table. His legs were bent under him, and while he was old, face creased with age and sun, he smiled. Prompto sat, afraid that if he was too quick or too full of energy, the old man would break before him. 

“My name is Jared.” 

“Morning Jared.” Prompto yawned, still not entirely awake. 

“I am here to teach you the ways of marriage. As the future husband to the Aanaawa, there are many things you must know, and you must know them completely before you are to be wed.” Jared spoke, and brought out a scroll. He unrolled it as he spoke, and lay it down before him. 

The symbols, writing Prompto had to assume, were completely foreign to him. He had seen writing in his hometown and could read at a rudimentary level. It was thought that only those who were destined to be rulers, merchants, or people of importance needed to possess the skills to read. Prompto was not deemed important. 

“We have much work to do in a very short period of time.” Jared placed a smooth rock at each end of the scroll, looking up only after he was finished. 

“And what happens if I don’t get everything down?” Prompto asked, feeling the tent flap close as Monica left them together. 

“Many things can happen. If you insult the wrong person or miss the wrong step, a great travesty can occur and war could break out. However, small mistakes are likely to occur, and will result in embarrassment and not much more.” Jared sat with his hands folded on his lap, speaking with certainty. 

“Oh.” Prompto shifted nervously on his plush seat. “How many people are coming to this wedding?” 

“If everyone shows up, there will be around two hundred guests from all around the continent. Several are coming from overseas to wish Gladiolus a happy and prosperous marriage. It is tradition, and many believe not wishing the Aanaawa a happy marriage is bad luck. Marriages of this scale do not happen often.”

Prompto could feel the nerves swirling around in his gut, making him feel as if he was going to be sick. Would it have been better on an empty stomach?

Jared was patient, and they reviewed the basics of what was to be expected. It felt like hours when Nyx entered the tent. He spoke words of apology and bowed his head before looking to Prompto. 

“It is time for your horseback training.” Nyx offered his hand down to Prompto, pulling the smaller boy to his feet. 

“I thought that we were doing this all day?” Prompto asked, not necessarily upset but more so confused. 

“Oh, you didn’t expect to get out of your regular duties, did you?” Nyx chuckled, leading the way from the tent, and into the early morning air. 

It felt open and fresh after the almost suffy and perfumed tent. Prompto lifted his hands to the sky, the symbols on the page burnt into his mind's eye. “I dunno. I thought this wedding was important.”

“It is.” Nyx spoke without turning around, taking them to a coral where Star was grazing over the edge of the paddock. “You and Star have a long way to go before then, and you will have to master reinless command of her by then.”

‘ _ Of course.’ _

And so the days were laid out before him. He was more exhausted on their days of rest than on their travel days. During the long rides, several people would approach him, and lecture him about things he had learned, things that Prompto was supposed to know by heart. At night, he would curl in the soft pelts and cry himself to sleep. He was sure Gladio noticed, but the large man did nothing. 

Riding lessons blended together, and Prompto was certain he was going to drive his horse off the edge of a cliff as they began to ascend into the plateaus and canyons. 

“Star won’t walk off the edge of a cliff. Trust her as she trusts you.”

Still, Prompto felt uncertainty as they continued to get closer to the place of his marriage. He learned thousands of years of tradition, practiced with Jared and spoke words he repeated to himself as they rode. They were, according to the elder man, more important to get right than anything else he would do in the wedding. 

The closer they got to the day and time of his marriage, the more nervous and less sleep Prompto got. It also seemed that Gladio was busy, even when they were traveling, giving orders and meeting with people Prompto didn’t recognise. 

Finally, they arrived at the Ya’aga Daahid, and it felt like something out of a fairy tale. From a distance, the large plateau rose up from the mostly flat surroundings. A semicircle of white stones surrounded the earth where patrols of horsemen circled in protection of the sacred land. It was amazing to Prompto, that after weeks of them traveling through canyons and over tretorious land, that everything approaching the Ya’aga Daahid was mostly amicable. 

A lone rider approached the caravan from the white semicircle of stones. He was riding a black horse and was dressed in whites and reds. Gladio galloped forward with the guard of two armed men. While Prompto had known that many of the tribesmen carried weapons, it was only now that it really felt like there was a good reason for it. 

The caravan continued, in lieu of having any true direction. It took Prompto a moment but, as Gladio and the other horsemen moved towards the plateau, the group behind him were looking to him for leadership. 

_ Confidence. I need to pretend I am a good leader. _ That was what Jared and Monica had said. Whether he felt it was true or not, he had to pretend. 

To Prompto’s relief, the caravan caught up with the three riders, and together, they crossed over the white stones and began to make the climb up the pathway. There was a steep, well trodden path that led from the bottom of the plateau up and around. Halfway up, there was a cave dug into the side of the earth. They entered, and to Prompto’s surprise it was well lit and homely. They were also not the first people to arrive. 

While Gladio continued to converse next to Prompto, his eyes went up, to the smooth ceiling high above their heads. He wondered exactly how this place came to be. If he had time, he would ask Jared since the man was an endless reservoir of knowledge. 

It took Prompto a moment to realize that Gladio was trying to grab his attention. He had dismounted Latse, and was offering his hand to the blond boy. Blushing, as he tended to do in Gladio’s presence, he let Gladio pull him from Star’s back. Prompto was led over to the five men who had been there when they arrived. They wore loose fitting clothes, cinched at the waist and nothing more. They had old and faded tattoos about their bodies, weatherworn and mostly obscured by the clothing. If he could see them, he would know what they had been doing in their long lives as the Cha’aka told stories with the ink on their bodies. 

Gladio introduced him to the elders, and Prompto scrambled to toss his right fist to his collarbone, bowing slightly to the men. They returned the favor, to Prompto’s relief, which meant the long hours under Jared’s tutelage had been worthwhile. 

The conversation quickly became incomprehensible to Prompto. The speed of their words and the topic they were discussing were outside his understanding. All he could do was let his mind wander and pretend to be in the present. 

The rest of the tribe filled in slowly, and as Gladio spoke, their camp unfolded before them, tent skins being hoisted to the sky and fires lit, not for warmth but for much needed light. 

Long after the camp had been made, Gladio finished speaking with the elders and they together made their way to the dining tent for their evening meal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya’aga Daahid - Marriage Shrine of the Cha’aka. From Tlingit ‘ý'agáax' daakahídi’ meaning house of prayer  
> Aanaawa - the chieftain of the tribes. From Tlingt ‘aanñáawu’ meaning rich man; man of wealth; chief 
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing Gladio as the big soft protector he is. I am blessed to have freosan do the art for my fic and couldn't be happier with their rendition of this scene!
> 
> As always, I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	4. The Nuna Xel’kyu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever the nervous one Prompto feels out of place as they finally arrive to the place where he will marry Gladio. Ceremony and tradition run thick in Cha’aka weddings. Amazingly, Prompto executes it flawlessly. Gifts and presents and ... A BABY CHOCOBO?

The large cave they made camp in filled slowly over the course of the next few hours. The process of getting all the wagons and supplies into the cave was a task as many of the horses refused the enclosed space. A paddock was erected at the base of the plateau where the majority of the horses were kept while those who were more willing brought their supplies. 

Prompto took this time to explore, finding the walls of the cave told stories in picture form. The crude drawings told of weddings and ceremonies and lore that Prompto was only recently starting to understand through Jared and Monica. Prompto was entranced, eyes wandering over the paintings. He hadn’t even realized someone else was there until, completely unawares, he bumped head long into a toned and smooth stomach. 

“Oh, I’m-” Prompto looked up, blushing as his eyes found the full smile upon Gladio’s perfectly pouty lips. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Gladio shook his head, eyes looking from Prompto to the painting. “My mother.” His large finger hovered over the woman in the painting, and then moved it over the other. “My father.”

Prompto’s eyes widened, and he immediately looked over the figures. “Oh.” He wasn’t sure what to say, or how to address it. He had never asked the other man anything about his life, and had never expected him to just come out with it. Of course, he wanted to know more, but with as little of Gladio’s tongue that he knew, any story now would be lost to him. 

“I am sorry.” Prompto repeated the words seeing the sorrow in the other man’s body and face. Being that Gladio was the leader of these people, it only stood to reason that his parents were both dead. 

After a long moment Gladio let out a slow, shuddering breath. A large hand was placed on Prompto’s shoulder as he spoke. “Come.”

Gladio led the way through the cave, exiting from the opposite side from where they came. The sun was bright compared to the soft light within. The sun was nearing the horizon, and in doing so it painted the surrounding land with beautiful reds and peaches. The slope upward was less steep as they circled to the top of the plateau. 

The view from the top of the Ya’age Daahid was breathtaking, and Prompto was forced to stop as his eyes grew wide. In every direction there was an expanse of the wild. He could see where they had come from, the southern trains through the valleys beyond. To the north was an expanse of plains with rolling brown grasses that danced against the playful evening breeze. 

Prompto wasn’t sure how long he had stood there, staring into the nothingness, but when he finally brought his attention back to Gladio, he was smiling again. It was in these small moments, where Gladio broke the hard shell and showed his softer side, that made Prompto melt. He felt his skin prickle, and he shivered slightly. 

“We will marry here.” Gladio offered his hand to Prompto, and the smaller man took it without hesitation. They walked together towards a stone platform at the far end of the flat ground. It wasn’t anything special in the failing light, but he knew that in three days time, this whole space would transform. The two seats, mounded with furs, would be placed here, and others for their guests about the plateau. The center would remain empty for the festivities. 

Yet, at this moment, there was a different feeling to the space. Prompto found that Gladio was leaning down to him, and his heart hammered against his chest. He felt the warm lips of the other man press into his forehead in a chaste kiss. 

Three days, and they would kiss for real. That thought forced the biggest blush yet from Prompto, and he was left staring into the amber eyes of his fiance. 

....

The next few days were busy. Guests came in droves. They set up camp at the base of the plateau, nearby but separated from the small camp that belonged to Gladio’s tribesmen and their horses. Prompto watched from atop the plateau in wonder. Since they had arrived so early, Prompto had been allowed to rest. 

At midday, there were five new encampments inside the white stone circle. Prompto watched as each group had entered the sacred space the same way they had, and he made a note to ask exactly who the guards to this place were. Lunch was brought to him on a tray, and as he tore into the bread, Monica sat beside him. 

“There is the Aan’xodzi tribe from the Choo kaan.” Monica pointed to the second largest set of tents nearest to the place they were to ascend from where they were. From above, the tents looked like one of their own, and Prompto nodded without much further thought. 

“They are the second largest Chaka tribe. Their lands are north,” Monica pointed over the plains as she spoke. “Their Aanaawa is kind, but stern.” 

Prompto nodded, taking in all the information that Monica had for him. 

“There is another tribe that should be here soon, but they are traveling further.” Monica looked over her shoulder as if they were going to show up just over the horizon. 

“There is the Gal Nwafrom the isles of Gaxaw .” Monica pointed to a smaller group that had no tents or horses. They seemed to have walked in from wherever they were. Prompto had watched them approach, and he was most interested in them. 

“The nomadic people of Xa’as will be here soon, too.” Monica continued as if she was not expecting Prompto’s response. “They ride large, fast birds and breed them to be exquisite. Most of the birds have yellow feathers, but rarely, a different genetic appears and you get a red or black bird. It is rare and sought after.” 

Prompto sat up a little straighter. “Giant birds you can ride on?” 

“Yes. They are called chocobos. They once were wild birds, but few wild chocobos remain after they were hunted for their meat.” 

Prompto frowned, wondering why anyone would hunt such an amazing sounding animal. 

There was silence for a while, as Prompto finished his food. Finally, he spoke. “Why would so many people come to wish me well on my marriage?” 

“That is simple.” Monica shifted her gaze fully on Prompto. “You are marrying a very important person. The Aanaawa of the Cha’aka is one of the most powerful men on the continent. Gladio is feared for his position and only one law is higher than his. And that is King Regis of the Zi Ta. And many do not see his name as powerful. The great Empire wishes to make peace with the Cha’aka constantly. Yet, Gladio refuses. Men who conquer needlessly and kill without reason are not worth allying with.” 

Prompto was in awe. If Gladio was so important, it still didn't make sense as to why he would want to marry  _ him, _ of all people. He swallowed and felt his throat constricting in his chest. “But-” 

Prompto felt his words catch and his mouth dry. The thought of this whole area being full to the brim with people to see  _ him _ get married. It was too much. “Why me?”

“Oh, dear Prompto.” Monica’s smile was soft and kind, more than he had ever seen. “If you had seen Gladio before he laid eyes on you. We have a word for it; Kuxa. It means, very simply, to be hit by love upon first glance.” 

.... 

Just as Monica had said, people showed up progressively over the next few days. Prompto spent a lot of his time atop the plateau. He was joined by the few people he could speak with over the course of that time. Monica, Jared, Nyx, and even Gladio came and sat with him. 

Gladio spoke a lot, and tried to be slow about it. A few times, he slipped into a common tongue to bridge the language barrier, and Prompto couldn’t help the giggle from his lips. Hearing Gladio tenderly walk through language was cute, and it really showed him what Monica had meant.  _ ‘Love at first sight.’ _

He would always leave saying “Until we meet again, my Sunflower.”

The morning of the wedding, Prompto woke too early. He had been up late trying to memorize everything that he was supposed to do and say and how it was all supposed to go down. He was unsure exactly how he was going to make it through the whole day, but he had to, in front of all those people. 

Gladio’s soft breathing in the bed next to him just proved to him how early it really was. If Gladio was still asleep, then perhaps he should try and sleep. 

No matter how hard he tried, there was no forcing sleep to claim him. Even though he wasn’t expected to be ready for hours still, Prompto made his way to the plateau. It was still as he remembered, none of the decorations having been put out just yet. As soon as the sun began its travels in the sky, Prompto knew it would be inundated by decorations and places to sit. 

Prompto moved over to the edge of the cliff, facing the west. The sun was ascending over the peaks of the mountains, the pink and lavender light creeping over the peak only enough to cast dramatic shadows in the valleys. It looked almost unreal, the stark black canyon to the colorful sunrise. 

He wasn’t sure how long he watched and waited, the scenery changing with every breath that he took. However, when he was approached by Monica, he knew he had been up there long enough. 

He ate in silence, the plate of warm and sweet smelling food a welcome to his nerves, which seemed to still be asleep somewhere in the folds of the furs long discarded. 

“When you are finished, we shall start your preparations. The next time you see Gladio, you will be taking his hand in marriage.” Monica spoke softly, yet her words caused a million butterflies to explode in his stomach. 

“Oh.” It was all he could say as he placed the plate down and let out a long sigh. 

The rest of the morning was a nervous blur. He was ushered back down into the cave and pulled towards a tent he had never seen. Perhaps it had always been here, but Prompto had never paid it any mind. 

There was a large wooden tub that had been brought from somewhere with steaming water inside. Prompto’s eyes went wide as he was stripped by the female attendants and escorted into the scalding waters. 

Even when he had lived with his parents, Prompto had never taken a hot bath. The water rushed around him, healing aches he didn’t know he had. He let out a sigh, suddenly feeling as if the warmth was washing away his embarrassment, nerves and every ache in his body. 

Prompto flushed when a female stripped down naked in front of him, and slipped into the water beside him. Her hair was tied loosely atop her head. Prompto immediately averted his eyes, looking anywhere but the woman before him. 

As he went to protest, she shushed him, and began washing him. Monica stepped forward, and began handing the woman scented soaps and oils. “It is tradition.”

Prompto wasn’t sure that made it better, but with everything that he had gone through since he arrived, he knew better than to scoff at this tradition. 

He was bathed, cleaned, and covered with oils that smelled of flowers and sandalwood. Once he had gotten over the initial shock of being naked with another human being, it was actually very nice and relaxing. The scents alone were lulling his tired mind into an almost trance like state. 

Sooner than he was ready, he was pulled from the waters. Soft cloths had been placed for him to walk on, his warm, naked body dripping. The other attendants of the tent were on him, more soft cloth dabbing at him as the water dried up from his skin. There was barely any time for his skin to cool as more oils and words were trailed over him. 

He was led through the tent to the back corner, where there was an elevated space. 

There he was dressed slowly and to the sound of many voices chanting words Prompto barely understood. The energy of the chanting had changed the atmosphere completely. 

In what felt like the blink of an eye, he was being led back through the tent. The flaps were pulled open, and the rush of cool air brought some sense back into him. Star stood before him, a single woollen blanket over her back. Yet the blanket was not the blanket that he normally used. 

Just like his clothing, the cloth was white with intricate gold threading. The swirls and waves of the thread were elegant and beautiful. Prompto climbed atop her back, knowing that it was time. He swallowed, now feeling the nerves rush him in full. 

They cantered, and without a lead, Prompto nervously fumbled with the cloth underneath him. The hot summer air hit him full in the face as they exited the cave, and immediately Prompto saw the flower petals crushed underfoot as they proceeded up. 

The climb felt like an eternity, but when they reached the top of the plateau, Prompto was sure his breath had left him. There were hundreds of tables with people sitting at each of them. They were low , smooth wooden unpolished tables. Every eye was on him, and the trail of red petals that Star followed stopped at the altar. 

A large awning had been erected over the raised stone platform. Enough shade was being cast on it that in the sweltering heat, Prompto and Gladio would have the only cool spot. And then there was Gladio. He was standing next to Latse, a matching red blanket over his back. Gladio, on the other hand, wore rich brown and white furs in contrast to his normal outfit. He was shirtless, but his skin had been oiled and traces of gold shimmered in the midday light. 

Promtpto couldn’t take his eyes off Gladio, a feeling in his gut telling him he had never really looked at the man. His husband to be. The deep rippling stomach muscles, toned and perfect. Sculpted biceps, and the firm forearms and chest. He swallowed.; Eeach step that Star took brought them closer. 

There they were, face to face, as Star shifted to face her side to Gladio. Without missing a single beat, Gladio offered his hand to Prompto. The blond was pulled from horseback, landing unstably on his feet. It was only then, as Star was led to stand next to Gladio’s horse, that Prompto realized there had been soft chanting coming from a group by a low burning fire to one side of the space. 

Together, they ascended the dias, where a single man approached. It was one of the elder sages he recalled from days earlier. He began speaking, Gladio’s hands and eyes not leaving Prompto. It was not difficult to keep eye contact, the honeyed eyes like a spell. 

Every syllable that was spoken was lost to Prompto. Time seemed not to exist as he just stared. It wasn’t until the large man spoke, that Prompto realized that time had been moving. 

“Wo acha ch’ tley aux Xux kush a’an.” The words exited Prompto’s mouth just as they had so many times with Jared. They were a perfect mimic of what Gladio had said. A huge tension lifted from Prompto’s shoulders, knowing that when the holy elder continued to speak he had not messed up. 

Just three lines after, the man stopped speaking, and Gladio started to lean down towards him. Heart hammering against his ribs like a hummingbird, Prompto pressed his eyes shut. 

Then, he felt warm lips against his own, his breath being stolen in that moment. Lavender blue eyes flew open, and Prompto saw Gladio impossibly close. 

As quickly as it had happened it was over, to the roar of applause. Gladio pulled away, and took Prompto’s hand in his as they turned to look at the crowd. 

They were married. 

.... 

A feast proceeded, and Prompto and Gladio sat under the awning, eating as groups approached them bearing gifts. Boxes holding gems and precious metals, coins and treasure beyond anything that Prompto had ever seen, were laid at their feet. The gift bringers would speak, more times only to Gladio but a few times they addressed Prompto in the common tongue. 

From what Prompto could gather, they were all saying the same thing. ‘Prosperous marriage.’ ‘Congratulations on the union.’ ‘Hope for a plentiful and prosperous life.’

It was strange to Prompto, all these strangers wishing them well and gifting them things. Never had anyone ever taken so much interest in his life. 

It wasn’t until the group of Xa’as arrived, that Prompto noticed a larger box with many holes being held between two men. They bowed, as everyone had, and placed the box down before them. Prompto’s eyes went wide when he heard a soft noise, almost like a chirp come from the box along with faint scratching noises. 

“To the great Aanaawa of the Cha’aka, we present,” One of the men who had been carrying the large box spoke, gesturing for the other to lift the lid. “A chocobo chick, may this gift bring you fortune and prosperity in your marriage.”

Prompto was on his feet, eyes wide and a smile thick on his features. He looked down into the box, seeing a large round object staring back at him. Dark black feathers ruffled as he looked from the bird to its handlers. “May I-” Prompto began, but he suddenly felt abashed. 

“Of course.” The man reached into the box, scooping up the chocobo as it ‘kweh’d’ softly. “He is yours. Rare in color and parents of good lineage. May he be a valuable companion.”

Prompto let the bird fall into his arms, and he turned, beaming even brighter as he headed back to his seat next to Gladio. The little creature made small noises, content to be in Prompto’s company. 

The rest of the gifts passed in a blur, Prompto giddy to be in the company of the small kwehing bird more than any gem or coin. The food was taken away, although the drink continued to be plentiful. Members of their own tribe came up on horseback, balancing on their backs while performing many tricks. Those present were awed by the skill of both rider and horse. Prompto was only half paying attention; only his peripheral was taking in the entertainment. 

Multiple different groups came forward. A show of swordsmanship; which was slightly intriguing as Prompto was poor with swords, wrestling; which in the heat of the day, Prompto knew why they were shirtless, and dancing. It was all interesting, and as the chocobo fell asleep in his lap, having had his glass filled many times, Prompto was feeling very happy. 

Two men dressed in baggy white pants with red trim walked into the cleared space before them. In their hands were two flaming sticks. Prompto felt his eyes grow wide as they bowed before them. The sticks flashed menacingly at their sides, the flame somehow contained on just the one end. 

Panicked, Prompto’s eyes went to Gladio. He seemed completely unaware of any danger this could pose to anyone. Routine. 

As the two men stood, Prompto’s eyes were fixed on the flames. His heart hammered in his chest as he watched the sticks start to twirl in the mens’ hands. It was thrilling, but also the danger made Prompto want to run to them and make them stop. 

Even as they moved, dancing with each other in a way that Prompto had never seen, the flames remained completely in control. It wasn’t until he saw Star shifting from nearby that he realized something really was going to happen. 

Picking up on his anxiety, she had stirred, and was now heading towards the fire. 

“Star!” Prompto exclaimed, standing and rushing forward. 

The two fire wielders didn’t notice until it was too late, dropping the fire and jumping out of the way. However, one of the men ended up having the flames land on his mostly naked flesh. Instantly, he was devoured by flames. Men from all sides rushed forward, and cloth was thrown over him. 

Prompto pushed forward, a hard lump in his stomach as he reached the man. He was panting and sweating, and his leg was blackened, but he was no longer engulfed in flames. Many of the men around were speaking words that Prompto didn’t understand, but it didn’t matter. 

“Are you okay?” He spoke, even though he knew the other wouldn’t have a clue as to what he was saying. 

Prompto’s fingers went to him then, and as warmth pulsed from his core, he touched him. Immediately, and to Prompto’s shock, his hands started glowing and that glow spread over all the injured flesh. 

  
  


While there had been much noise previously, everything grew silent in waves; first from those closest and then slowly to those further away. As the glowing faded, the skin that had been charred was once again unmarred. The man grabbed at his leg as Prompto, wide eyed, stared down at his own hands in disbelief. A word was moving among the men now. 

“ _ Knuagu _ .” 

The word spread, even to those who did not speak the Clink language. There was a hand on Prompto’s shoulder, and he looked up. The welcoming honeyed eyes greeted him. The warmth spread to his lips, perfect full lips curling into a smile. 

“You never said you were a Knuagu.” Gladio pulled him up, and carried him away, leaving the wedding party behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wo acha ch’ tley aux Xux kush a’an. - ‘Together forever, my husband love’ The marriage bonding words. From Tlingit Kusaxán - love (of people); Xux - husband; ch'u tleiý - forever; ax - my; Wooch - together  
> Nuna - Healer from Tlingit ‘ñunáagu’  
> Xel’kyu - Lightning from ‘xeitl l'úkýu’  
> Aan’xodzi - from Tlingit ‘Aan’ meaning gentle and ‘tuxóodzi’ meaning bear  
> Choo kaan - from Tlingit ‘Chookán’ meaning grass and ‘aan’ meaning village  
> Knuagu - from Tlingit ‘Kunáagu’ meaning healer  
> Clink - from the word Tlingit  
> Gaxaw - islands to the North East from the Tlingit word ‘gáaxw’ meaning duck  
> Gal Nwa - People of Gaxaw from the Tlingit words ‘Çalyáý Ñwáan’ meaning river people  
> Xa’as - from the Tlingit word ‘xaas’ meaning bison
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments. Thank you for reading!


	5. Kuxa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the Argentums call on Gladio’s tribe to protect them, Gladio denies his protection. What will the consequences be for the Cha’aka now? No matter what, Gladio promises nothing will happen to his Sunflower.

Prompto quickly came to learn what that word had meant. Knuagu was the word that the Cha’aka people used to mean a great healer, or simply ‘one gifted with magic to heal’. When Prompto had explained that he had never done anything of the sort before, only Gladio seemed to believe him. 

The day after their wedding, everyone headed out. The party had gone late into the night, and Prompto and Gladio had reappeared intermittently, but any time that someone had brought up what Prompto had done, Gladio ushered him away. 

The months that followed their wedding, everything seemed to get easier. Gladio now spent most of the day with Prompto, and together they went through overseeing daily camp life. The only time they were apart was when Prompto had his riding and language and culture lessons. 

Happiness was not something that Prompto had ever really known, yet, now that he was married to a man he had known for less than half a year, he found himself smiling almost constantly. The language was now easier as well, and more times when they spoke it was together, in Clink. 

“Today,” Prompto smiled as he ate from the plate of food that Monica had brought for them. “I took Star through the nearby pastures with Nyx. We found a small stream flowing through a patch of trees. It was nice and cool. I think you would enjoy it!”

“We should visit there, tomorrow.” Gladio’s eyes never left Prompto, even as he tore bread and ate it. 

“I would love to.” Prompto looked down at his food, feeling a flush run across his nose. When Gladio looked at him, he felt something inside of him that he had never felt before. 

The rest of the meal was relatively uneventful, as not much happened in their corner of the world. After dinner, Prompto and Gladio both, as they normally did, retired to their tent. 

“I would like to hear another story about your past.” Gladio insisted, even when Prompto protested. 

“There really isn’t much to know.” Prompto tossed himself onto the pallet, pulling one of the pillows under his chin as he watched Gladio pour them both a cup of something from a pitcher. 

“I want to know all,.” Gladio repeated. This conversation was one they had every night, and no matter how often Prompto insisted he was uninteresting, Gladio continued. Oftentimes, if Prompto told a good enough story, Gladio would grace him with a more exciting tale. Gladio’s life had been more interesting by far. 

“Fine. Have I told you about the time when I stole the golden bell?” Prompto received the cup from Gladio, a rich brown colored liquid swirling in the metal goblet. 

“You have not.” Gladio sat in a chair facing him, the smile that was only his, thick on his lips. “I didn’t think you were the stealing type.” 

The chuckle that accompanied the smile came now, and Prompto felt himself melt on the inside. He couldn’t tell Gladio no when he warmed him so much. 

“Okay. So there was this time when I was very little,” Prompto took a sip from the cup, a smooth and sweet liquid filling his mouth before flowing down his throat. “My parents kept this golden bell in their bedroom. It wasn’t for use, but a gift from someone who had traveled through. It was just larger than my hand, and they never let anyone near it.”

Prompto could feel the warmth of the alcohol beginning to course through his veins and his lips loosened with its influence. “So my older sister came to me one night before bed and dared me to steal it. I was maybe five, and I thought this would make my siblings like me more. So, I said yes.” 

Prompto took another drink, shifting on the furs. “After I went to bed, down in the lower room, I stayed awake and listened until the whole house was silent. I think I laidy awakey for hours, excited and nervous. When the whole house was asleep, I carefully crept upstairs. My siblings were fast asleep in their bed rooms, and along the long hallway to my parents room, I moved. 

“I managed to get the golden bell before my father woke up, and when he saw what I had, he was angry.” The smile that had been on his lips only moments earlier was gone and Prompto frowned. “I was punished and sent into the cellar and locked there the whole next day. No food or water.” 

“That is horrible.” Gladio frowned, shaking his head. “Your parents showed you no love?” 

Prompto shook his head, knowing that most of his stories involved his family and their cruelties. “They never really saw me as family.”

Gladio stood, leaving his own cup on the table at the center of the room. “I promise I will never let another bad thing happen to you, my sSunflower.”

....

The next morning, while Prompto trained with Nyx, a messenger on horseback arrived and they stopped their lesson early to hurry back to their tent. Prompto arrived, breathless to find Gladio surrounded by slaves, dressing him in fine furs and golds that he had never seen before. 

“What is going on?” Prompto asked, and even before the words came from Gladio he was being pulled to the center of the room and stripped naked. 

“We have a visitor from Lokan who wishes to make requests of us.” The words were bitter from Gladio’s mouth, but his eyes softened as he looked at Prompto. 

“It will be alright, my sSunflower,” Even as Gladio said the words, Prompto felt his skin prickle, “remember my promise to you. You will not be forced to do anything you do not wish, ever again.”

Always, Gladio had Prompto’s best interest at heart. 

They dressed quickly and soon they moved to the twin fur thrones in the large dining tent. Prompto felt out of place, weighed down with the furs and jewelry. However, Gladio looked more regal than ever, sitting taller than everyone, watching and waiting for the man who wanted to talk to them. 

After a moment, a tall, well dressed man was ushered into the tent, with two guards to either side. When they approached, they took one knee in obeisance, forcing the man in his richly dyed purples and reds down as well. This is the first time that Prompto had seen such an act from the tribesmen, but perhaps this was the way of things when visitors were present. 

Prompto recognized the man when they finally stood. His name was Sonitus, one of Prompto’s parents’ most trusted advisors. It was becoming clear what was going on, now. 

Several servants and slaves stood at the base of the thrones, creating a barrier from the unknown man. Nyx was standing beside Gladio, and knowing how they looked, Prompto could imagine how off putting Sonitus was. 

“I have come here at the behest of the Argentums to request military assistance from the Aanaawa Gladio.” Sonitus spoke, his eyes darting from Gladio to Nyx to the simply dressed servants and back. 

Nyx leaned into Gladio’s ear, translating the words. When Nyx pulled away, Gladio shook his head. “No.” He said in Clink. 

Nyx translated, and Sonitus stepped back in horror. It was obviously not the answer he’d been expecting. “You have made a promise to the Argentums. For their son you promised protection.”

Nyx was quick to translate, and Gladio shook his head once more. “For a son so damaged that they thought him trash? No. You will not get my protection. Not now. Not ever.”

The words were quickly translated, and Sonitus’s features knit tightly together. Prompto could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Prompto watched as Gladio leaned over to Nyx, whispering in his ear. Nyx descended the dias and disappeared towards the stables.

“You have an agreement to uphold.” Sonitus was not fazed by the disappearance of the translator, no doubt under orders to not return unless he had the whole tribe on horseback to defend their land. 

Gladio didn’t say a word, the amber eyes simply stared down at Sonitus. They stood in silence, waiting for Nyx to return. However, when he did, neither spoke. Instead, Nyx tossed the bag at the messenger's feet. 

“You can take that back and give it to your masters. We will not serve those who do not deserve it.” Nyx spat on the ground, and the two men with long and sharp spears closed in, waiting only for the man to lift the foul smelling bag up. “Now leave.”

Gladio stood, not watching as the man was escorted from their camp, and Prompto knew that if he stayed, he would merely be left. Sonitus called after him, but Prompto instead caught up with Gladio. 

“What was in the bag?” Prompto asked, shooting only one look over his shoulder before the exited the tent. 

“Horse shit and the jewellery your parents sent you with the first day you came to us.” Gladio looked down, the angry expression on his face softening, then. “I will not be doing your family favors when they treated you so poorly for so long.”

~~~~

The next morning they packed up and began their long ride towards Tleex. When Prompto asked why they were moving, Gladio simply said that they were going to make it more difficult to be found and that the markets of Tleex held supplies they could only get there. 

So, they rode. The two week long journey took them just outside the city, on an overlook where they were able to see the marketplace clearly. As the sun set over the tall city buildings, Prompto could feel the excitement bubbling inside of him. 

Early the next day, Gladio gathered a group of servants and tribesmen. They departed down the hill on foot and entered the gated city of Tleex. Tleex was under the protection of the Zi Ta, who’s King was Regis Caelum. The distinctive bBlack and silver uniform of the Zi Ta and the skull emblem were everywhere. Guards in heavily polished armor roamed the streets, eying the barbarically dressed intruders on their city cautiously. Yet, they never approached or followed for too long. 

The marketplace was larger in person than Prompto could have even guessed. His eyes grew large, the size of dinner plates. There were so many things that he had never been allowed to have, nice clothing and foods. Prompto’s eyes curved into a smile, stepping forward. “Wow.” 

“You can have anything your heart desires.” Gladio spoke, and made sure that the woman standing to Prompto’s back understood what he had said. “I am going to go trade for some necessities, but you enjoy yourself, my sunflower.”

Gladio grabbed Prompto’s hand, and pressed the warmth of his lips to the back of it. Prompto watched with those same wide eyes as Gladio smirked, and departed. Lavender blue eyes watched as he began to weave his way through the much shorter crowd. It wasn’t until he disappeared behind a corner that Prompto went back to the many stalls around where they stood. 

Prompto found that he really enjoyed the market, and he was picking up small trinkets from the stalls around him. Most of them were not gifts for himself, but gifts for those who had stayed behind. There was a nice riding blanket for Nyx, a ivory comb for Monica, and more gifts that were carried away by the servants who had come with them. Prompto had never had money, and being free to get whatever he wanted made him a little giddy. 

It was around lunch when they wandered the streets eating roasted meats and vegetables on a stick that they came to another stand. A single man with a soft face and short cropped blond hair sat at the stall. He quickly ushered them over, a half smile on his lips. 

“Come, come. I have something you will die for!” Prompto furrowed his brow, but approached the stall. On the flat surface of the stall, there were empty cups, and barrels with taps just out of reach behind the man. 

“Okay?” Prompto asked, looking from the man to the cups. “You selling wine, or something?”

“Only the finest wines and meads this side of the Heanka.” The man grabbed for a cup, and poured a liquid from one of the many caskets. The liquid was a deep and almost bloody red color. 

The glass was placed into Prompto's hand. Prompto reacted just in time to grab the steam and steady it before it shattered to the ground. “Uh, I don’t know if-”

“Trust me, I think you and your-” The man’s blue eyes looked over them, seeing how they were all dressed, and his eyes widened. “Are you the Aanaawa Prompto?” 

Prompto took a startled step backwards, the glass almost leaving his grip. “You are said to be a Knuagu. There hasn’t been a Knuagu in a century. No, no. You should have my best. This-” The man grabbed the glass, and placed it down onto the surface of the stall. “This will not do for you or your husband. Let me get a barrel of my finest honeyed wine.”

Prompto was surprised, looking to Monica with concern. “Do you think we should, uh, I dunno. Leave?”

Before Monica could respond, the dusty haired man was back, lugging a smaller barrel from somewhere behind the cloth. “This.” He spoke with a final heft of exertion. “You will love this.”

“I really don’t-” Prompto began, and still the man pressed on. 

“Here.” The liquid in this glass was smoother, a soft brown and the aroma was strong as Prompto inhaled. 

“Okay. I suppose there is no harm in tasting it.” Prompto let out a sigh from between his lips, as he carefully tipped the liquid down his throat. The sweet mead danced across his taste buds, sweet and thick honey and rich notes of something that Prompto couldn’t pin down. 

“That is really-” The words slurred in his mouth as the cup slipped from his fingers. A sudden wave of exhaustion swept over him, and Prompto felt himself sway and his knees buckled. “Wha’...”

“Find Gladio! Now!” Monica spoke in the tribal tongue and Prompto tried to force his eyes to open, yet they seemed to be weighted down by sandbags. 

“I have a bed in the back. Let us lay him down.”

“No.” Prompto tried to say, but his tongue was heavy and even as he felt his body being lifted from the ground, darkness washed over him and claimed him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuxa - from Tlingt ‘kusaxán’ meaning love  
> Heanka - from the Tlingit word ‘héenák'w’ meaning small creek
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you are enjoying my fic. The plot thickens as we find out just how much Gladio is willing to do for Prompto.
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	6. Zi Ta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto has been kidnapped by Nifelheim spies. Desperation fill Prompto as he realizes he may never see Gladio or the life he loves ever again. But, if it keeps Gladio safe it is worth it... Right?

There was a bump and Prompto felt himself struggling against a heavy blanket of sleep. He came to himself in stages. He felt ill and empty. He was moving. It was rougher than on horseback and every now and again a jolt creaked the wood underneath him. 

His limbs were hard to wake, and when he tried to shift, Prompto found his arms were leashed behind his back. His legs, too, were bound together. Lastly, Prompto found that a soft cloth was tied about his mouth, and he couldn’t call out even if he wanted to. His throat was dry as if it had been too long without liquid. 

It took even longer for him to open his eyes, and when he did, he saw the same man who had poisoned him. He was grinning down at him as if he had simply been watching him sleep. 

“Oh, you’re finally awake. I was starting to worry that I accidently killed you with the poison. You are much smaller than that brute who you married.” 

Prompto struggled then, wanting to lash out but finding he was tied too well. 

“Oh, are you upset I insulted your capturer?” A sharp and cruel noise split the air as the man laughed. 

“Oye. Loqi. Keep your mouth shut and stop tormenting the boy. Boss wants him in one piece. Save it for later.” The noise came from behind Prompto, and he assumed it was whoever was driving the wagon. 

“You know Tredd, you’re no fun.” Loqi leaned back on his hands, and let out a breath. “Verstael is probably just gonna kill him, anyway. Crazy old loon.”

Prompto’s eyes widened, and he began struggling again. The ropes were tight, and Prompto could feel them biting into his skin, and yet he didn’t stop. He had to escape. He had to get back to Gladio. 

“Oh, calm down, you.” Loqi grabbed at his shoulder, pressing hard so that his arms went numb. “You don’t stop struggling, I will put you under again. This time it won’t be so pleasant.”

Prompto stopped moving, and felt hot tears building on the corners of his eyes. 

“Good. If you behave, then we can make this journey as enjoyable as possible, for all of us. You want that, right?” Loqi smiled, and Prompto felt his stomach flip. “Well?”

Slowly, Prompto nodded his head. 

“Good.” Loqi leaned back against the side of the cart, and let out a content sigh. “Just remember if you act out, I have ways to deal with you, and you won’t like that.”

Just when Prompto had started to feel like he belonged, he was torn out of his happiness and placed in an unknown helplessness. 

....

The days of travel were long and boring. The longer they traveled, the more Prompto felt his hope slipping away. He was allowed little freedom, and while they gave him food and water, he wasn’t too hungry. Perhaps this contributed to his listlessness, which played into his bonds slowly being loosened over their travels. 

“Why are you taking me?” Prompto asked one day, staring ahead of them through the flaps of the wagon. The road was dead and looked just like the stretch of road from the day before. 

“Verstael thinks you are some key to finding eternal youth, or something.” Loqi shrugged, scratching the bottom of the wagon with a blade. 

“What?” Prompto shifted, his hands now bound together in front of him instead of behind his back. “I can’t do anything like that. I am nothing. A nobody.”

“Someone said you could heal. Don’t know where he made the leap that you were some holy grail or whatever.” Loqi shrugged, looking up at Prompto, and tugging slightly at the rope. “Honestly, it isn’t my problem what he does with you once we hand you over and get paid.”

Prompto frowned, the growing pit of anxiety in his stomach lurching as he tried not to think of his fate. He had thought that Gladio would find him, catch up to them, and protect him from everything. As the days stretched on, Prompto began to wonder if Gladio was following them at all. It didn’t seem like they would be hard to track. How far behind could he be?

“Where are you taking me?” Prompto asked after a long silence. He looked up from his hands and watched Loqi continue to fiddle with whatever he was carving into the wagon. 

“The Empire of Niflheim. Surely you’ve heard of them?” Loqi looked up then, watching Prompto’s expression. 

“No. I haven’t.” Prompto let out a sigh. What would a poor boy in a small town ever have known about world affairs? He had learned so much, and yet, this name had never come up. 

“Well.” Loqi shrugged, “We’ll be there soon and you won’t be able to say that any longer.”

....

Nightmares riddled Prompto’s sleep. Dreams of being tortured and experimented on woke him in a cold sweat. Even waking in the middle of the night, Prompto had no chances to escape, being tied to one of the others. Both Loqi and Tredd were short tempered and more talented with a weapon. If he alerted them to his escape, they would likely kill him, or worse. 

Sleepless nights found Prompto drifting off in spurts during their travels. The nightmares didn’t leave him alone in the daylight hours either, but they were less and it made the traveling go faster. It was on the fifth day of travel that he awoke to voices. 

“What do you mean the Argentums put out a bounty for the kid?” Tredd growled from the other side of the wagon’s flap where they could control the horses. 

“Yeah.” Loqi whispered back, panic thick in his words. “The Zi Ta Xa are looking for Prompto. We’re gonna be in deep if they catch us with him.” 

Prompto sat up, trying to make as little noise as possible. Sweat drenched his brow and as he wiped it away, he tried to sort out what the two were saying. Someone was out there looking for him. Maybe he could get away. 

“Don’t worry. Tomorrow we will be crossing the border.” The fear was in Tredd’s voice, too, but he was doing a better job at controlling it than Loqi. “Once we are in Niflheim, they won’t be able to do anything to us.” 

Prompto’s eyes went wide, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. He had to escape, and he was only now realizing this was the first time they had ever left him unattended. It was now or never. 

“We are gonna wanna drug him again. If he makes a sound while going through the checkpoint, we’re screwed.” 

Prompto moved, slowly edging to the back of the wagon. The wood creaked, and Prompto felt his heart leap into his throat. Luckily, they hit a bump just then, and neither seemed to notice. 

Letting out a deep breath, he pushed through the wagon’s flap. The dirt road was moving under the wagon quickly, and the road to either side was full of brush and bushes. 

_ “You can do this Prompto.” _ He would just have to jump and roll into the bushes. It sounded crazy, but he knew he was running out of time. 

“I think we have enough of the drink to knock him out for a while.” Loqi confirmed. 

Panic jumped in Prompto’s chest and he took in a deep breath. He pushed himself forward, feeling the air roll past him. He hit the dirt with a muffled thump and somehow forced himself to roll. Pain bit into his sides but Prompto couldn’t stop until he was hidden. 

After a few moments, he was under a low berry bush, covered in dirt and sweat and bleeding from many small wounds. Prompto didn’t dare to breath as he listened to the wooden wagon wheels roll and fade into the distance. When they didn’t slow, Prompto knew that he had escaped. For how long, that was another story. 

His hands were still bound together, and as he wiggled from the thick bush, he found a sharp branch to saw away at the rope. Prompto could feel himself, battered and scratched, but needed away from the road. Seeing the direction of the road and the wagon, Prompto set off at a run in the opposite direction. His goal was to put as much distance between himself and his capturers as possible, as quickly as possible. 

.... 

It wasn’t until the sun had completely fallen in the sky that Prompto stopped running. He was drenched in sweat and there were sharp stitches in his sides. With burning lungs, Prompto finally collapsed on the edge of a river. The pants and tunic he wore were torn and shredded while his skin was bleeding or was covered in dried blood from the many thorny plants he had pushed through. 

Without thinking, Prompto stripped down until he was naked and slipped into the cool water. A long sigh escaped his lips as he sunk into the shallow river. His hands moved over bruised flesh, and he could feel the warmth in his hand. A faint glowing emanated around him and after a few minutes, Prompto felt as if he hadn’t just run for hours. 

“Wow.” Prompto brought his hand above the water, and looked at it. Perhaps he was a little special. 

There was a tree snapping from behind him, and Prompto jumped. The water around him splashed loudly, and he turned. In the moonlight there were two figures leading horses to the water. They seemed just as surprised to see him as he was to see them. 

“We come in peace. No need to be startled, friend.” The taller of the two lifted gloved hands in a show of the words he used. Prompto’s eyes darted from the man’s hands to the long sheathed sword at his side. He swallowed and nodded, but he didn’t argue as he was not only unarmed but also unskilled at fighting. 

“My name is Ignis Scientia, and we are on a mission to find someone.” The bespectacled man stepped forward, his horse tramping impatiently. “Perhaps you can help us?”   
  


“Me?” Prompto squeaked, realizing now that he was completely naked and his clothing was dirty on the side of the river. 

“Of course.” Ignis smiled softly, bringing his free hand to the glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Once you are finished in the water, of course. May we make camp with you tonight?”

Prompto could feel his cheeks flush and he nibbled on his lip. Of course there shouldn’t be any harm in saying yes, and if they were traveling perhaps they would be able to help him? Maybe a campfire and some food would be nice after the exertion from the day. 

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” Prompto spoke just barely above a whisper and the other two relaxed. The smaller of the two men, dark hair unlike anything Prompto had ever seen, leaned into Ignis’s ear and whispered something. Ignis nodded and started to tie his horses' lead around one of the trees. 

“Don’t mind us. We are just going to make camp here.” Ignis called out, and immediately turned his back on Prompto, giving him what little privacy he could

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zí Ta - Kingdom overseen by King Regis. From Tlingt ‘Taat’ meaning night and ‘xoodzí’ meaning falling star  
> Xa - from Tlinght ‘ýáa’ meaning warriors. The Zi Ta Xa are an elite group of warriors
> 
> This chapter was hard to write because thinking from Prompto’s point of view in utter desolation after finally finding love ... not easy. I hope you enjoyed it and power through to the next chapter. I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gladio finds Prompto missing and will do anything to get him back unharmed. Where blind rage fills the loss, Gladio tracks the wagon taking his Sunflower across the border.

The city of Tleex was just as alive and active now as when Gladio had gone into his meeting with the Lord of the region. Their conversation had gone on longer than intended, but Gladio always enjoyed talking with Cor Leonis. He was a man of good humor and treated his tribe well. 

It was as he was making his way to the market to find Prompto that Nyx ran straight into him. The man was panting and there was a heavy frown on his lips. 

“Gladio. Prompto,” He was breathless, and the urgency in his voice made the smile fall from Gladio’s lips. Gladio grabbed Nyx by the shoulders, pulling him up straight.

“What’s wrong with my Sunflower?” A hiss gritted from between his teeth as he waited for the words to spill out of his most trusted clansman's lips. 

“Drank something. Passed out.” Nyx managed, as he took long, steadying breaths. 

Gladio found himself releasing Nyx, blinking dumbfounded at the man. “Take me there. Now.”

It was as if he had gone entirely numb, Gladio’s legs moving behind Nyx. The crowd parted before them, or maybe they made them part. They were a blur of faces as Gladio felt his chest tighten. He wasn’t sure what he would do if anything happened to Prompto. He cared for him so much, and he had already done so much to protect him. 

They came to a stop where a group of his clansmen were gathered. Several of the servants were laying on the ground. They were bleeding and unconscious, but alive. There was a trail of blood going to the back of the stall, and Gladio looked to his clansman. 

“Where is he?” Gladio growled, feeling his hand move to the curved blade at his side. 

He moved, the anger and sadness pulsing through him. The sharp curve of the blade cut through the burlap fabric. Tears brimmed at the corners of his eyes when he saw a mess back there, and not a soul in sight. 

“Bring me Latse.” Gladio turned, seeing the servants who were uninjured turning on their heels and rushing from the market. He saw now that they were creating a scene, and he didn’t care one bit. It wouldn’t bring Prompto back to him. 

“Nyx. You are in charge while I am gone.” Gladio sheathed his weapon, and kneeled down to examine the footprints. “Send an eagle to Iris. Tell her to meet the tribe here. If you don’t hear from me in a week, send her and her trackers after me.”

.... 

The tracks were easy to follow at first. They had been made in haste and were careless. However, after about a mile, they seemed to have come to their senses and made for a place that was heavily trafficked. 

That was where Gladio found himself as the sun was setting. The crossroads were moist, deep divots remained from wheels and pits from where horses had rushed through. It was now that Gladio needed to make a decision. The path to the left would lead them away from the heart of Zi Ta and towards the warring nation of Niflheim. The path to the right would lead them straight to the Capital of Zi Ta. Straight ahead would find them deep in the mountains. While the left would also take them nearer to Prompto’s home town. 

Not knowing if it was correct, but feeling the decision in his bones, he went to the left. He spurred on Latse, and they pushed on down the dirt road. 

.... 

Gladio had failed Prompto at the market, and as the hours turned into days, the feeling sank deep in his bones. Latse was quick and able, but Gladio knew that he couldn’t push him too hard or he would die. After riding hard on the first day, their pace had slowed and Gladio began to look for signs of Prompto wherever they went. 

It made for slow going, but if they were traveling in a wagon, their progress would also be slow. Day after day, Gladio found traces of a camp that was made up for three people. Day after day, these same three people pulled off the road and hid their whereabouts to those on the road. A single body was dragged from the cart to the campfire. 

If Gladio were to bet, he knew he was on the right track. His insides burned with rage at being so close and yet so far away. 

Five days went by, and finally, Gladio gave the final push. He knew where they were headed now, and there was no way Gladio would let Prompto fall into the hands of the Niflheim empire. 

The sun was painting the sky orange when the shape of a wagon came into view. They were far off, but Gladio had one of the fastest horses in all of Eos.

“Ride like the wind.” Gladio whispered into Latse’s ear as he leaned forward and spurred him forward. Gladio closed his eyes, and felt the muscles of his horse pound hard on the dirt, kicking dust in their wake. The wind blew by them, and for a moment, it was like they were flying. 

Gladio’s eyes flew open as he reached for the crescent shaped blade on his back. The movement was smooth as he sat up, and propelled himself onto the moving wagon. He slashed the canvas tent flap, and fell into the wagon, teeth bared. 

“Where is he?” Gladio growled, not caring if they knew his language or not. His other hand was on a short sword, crouched and ready to draw blood. 

The wagon, full of many sacks and barrels held only one living being. A soft faced blonde man peeked through the flaps of the wagon. His eyes went wide as he cursed. 

The wagon skidded to a stop as Gladio leapt through the flap, and flung the man onto the hard ground. The dull side of the sickle blade was against his throat and one bare foot on his chest. 

“Prompto. Where is Prompto?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kasay - from Tlingit ‘kasçaaý’ meaning to mourn 
> 
> I love black out rage Gladio. I feel like people forget this side of Gladio. He is such an emotional creature and you kidnap his happiness and he'll go berserk! 
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	8. The Calm before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunited but there is a storm brewing of an old crazed man. With war and Prompto on the line, Gladio will prove his love to Prompto.

Prompto was smiling as he leaned up against a felled tree by the firelight. He had his hand collapsed on his stomach. The clothing was unfamiliar under his touching, having borrowed a tunic and pants from Noctis after destroying his. 

Noctis had caught a couple of river fish and they had just finished them off. It was some of the best food he had had in a very long time. Sleep was starting to take over, the flames dancing, fire crackling and the soft running of the stream by his side. 

“We know who you are.” The words stirred Prompto from his near sleep. Dazed, Prompto looked to the bespectacled man who made roughing it seem elegant. 

“Wha-?” Prompto forced his eyes open and tried to bring his brain into thinking once more. 

“Yes.” Noctis shifted, the edges of sleep playing off his eyelashes. He yawned and pressed his head into Ignis’s leg. 

“We saw you healing yourself in the river. You are Prompto Argentum.” Ignis didn’t move, the words stated as a fact more than anything else. 

“No,” Prompto shook his head, the sleep and exhaustion making it hard to think through what he wanted to say. 

“Your parents came to my father,” Noctis spoke, and Prompto fought with the growing pit in his stomach, “Saying you were stolen from them. Told him that the Cha’aka have been pillaging and stealing from them.” 

Prompto stood, the sleep that had been so near just moments before was gone. “You are wrong! They are lying!” 

There were tears brimming on the edges of his eyes and he was angry. If they were going to take him back to his parents, Prompto would have no part in whatever they wanted. Kindness aside, he would never go back to that life.

“Calm down.” Ignis shifted on the log he was sitting on, displacing Noctis’s head in the process. “We are here to find answers. I find some of this suspect, as it does appear you were running from something.

“Do sit down, Prompto.” Ignis gestured for the man to relax, and reluctantly, Prompto obeyed. “We are not unjust. We are simply stating a fact. If your parents are lying, then we will come to the bottom of that. For now, rest. We have time to discuss everything.”

Ignis stood, and placed the empty cup on the log before acquiring three lumps from the saddles of the horses. Sleeping rolls. With a large yawn, Noctis grabbed his, and fell asleep on it before even putting the covers on himself. His soft snoring was almost cute next to the fire. 

Ignis simply shook his head as he passed the third to Prompto. “Sleep. I promise nothing will happen to you under my protection. You have my word.”

There was a slight curling of lips as Ignis let his gaze move from Prompto back to Noctis. He left Prompto alone, and settled himself into his own sleeping roll. “Good night, Prompto.” 

~~~~

True to his word, nothing happened all night. The fire died down and the sun crested the clearing, waking them all. Noctis was the hardest to rouse, finally finding the covers enough to cover his face from the offensive light. 

Chuckling, Ignis simply went to make breakfast, and Prompto watched with eager eyes. First it was coffee, a metal kettle brought to boil over the fire. Prompto had never had coffee, and Ignis poured him a cup while he worked. 

The bitter taste was different, something that he was glad he could try but not something he would likely have any time soon again. Yawning, he was watching as Ignis cracked fresh foraged eggs and chopped mushrooms and onions on a cutting board he had brought with him. 

The vegetables were about to hit the pan when there was a thundering noise of hooves on hard rock very nearby. The casual look on Ignis’s face fell and he was at his sword quickly. Noctis was awake, jumping from his resting place, wide eyed and alert. He pulled a weapon from, what Prompto assumed, was his pillow. 

In the moments that followed, Prompto dropped the metal cup holding the coffee.; Aa large black Fresian Horse trotted into the clearing. Prompto recognized him immediately, and the man riding atop Latse was none other than Gladio. 

Prompto’s eyes poured over, the joy and sadness bubbling as he rushed from where he had been sitting to Gladio’s side. Gladio moved too, sheathing his weapon and dismounting in time to grab Prompto and pull him to his chest. 

“My sunflower.” Gladio spoke, not taking note of the other two who were lowering the weapons cautiously. “I am sorry. I failed you. I couldn’t keep you safe.”

Prompto grabbed at Gladio’s toned chest, wishing for something to hold onto. “I am so happy you came!” The tears continued to cascade down his face 

“I would never leave you, my sunflower. You are my everything.” Gladio’s voice choked up, and he squeezed tighter. “I do not know what I would be without you.”

Prompto closed his eyes, smelling in the scent that was so familiar and so comforting. He opened his mouth for a moment, about to speak, when a soft throat clearing brought the couple from their reunion.

Gladio’s body tensed once more, as if he had forgotten that they were in the presence of strangers. His eyes read over them, seeing their weapons in hand, and pulling Prompto close defensively. 

“No need for that.” Ignis spoke, his arm moving to sheath his weapon. With the speed he had been able to defend himself, he would be able to draw quickly. “I would like to speak with you, Gladiolus of the Cha’aka, Great Aanaawa.”

It took Prompto a moment to realize that Ignis was not speaking the common tongue. Instead, he was speaking Gladio’s tongue. Blinking, he shifted, and pushed himself from the intense grip of the other man. 

“What is there to speak?” Gladio growled, low and threatening. 

“Much, my Great Aanaawa. I have orders to bring you and your tribesmen to justice-” Ignis raised a hand when Gladio growled and began to defend himself. 

“ **However** ,” Ignis spoke over the disgruntled noises of Gladio and moved to the food that was still cooking on the fireside. “I want to hear what you have to say before we take rash action.” 

Noctis had already placed his weapon down with a yawn, and was situating himself comfortably with a hot cup of coffee against a fallen tree. 

“You will stay for breakfast? Won’t you?” Ignis peered over his glasses, raising but a single eyebrow. 

Instead of a response, Gladio sheathed his weapon and looked down at Prompto. When Prompto nodded slowly, Gladio moved to take a seat on the opposite side of the camp, a large rock his throne. 

Prompto proceeded to tell Gladio everything. His Clink had improved and with it the speed at which he was able to tell his story. Prompto spoke, not realizing when Ignis had brought them both food. He told Gladio about the fear he had felt, the loss and desperation and how he had been so defenseless. 

Gladio listened, eating slowly as he watched Prompto. He nodded, eyes never leaving the sunshine boy. 

Finally, as Prompto finished his food, his story was complete. Ignis and Noctis remained on their side of the camp, listening but not saying a word. 

“This Prince and,” Gladio looked up to look at Ignis, whoas was drinking his coffee calmly, “Sword saved you?”

Prompto nodded, looking over to the others with a smirk. He couldn’t read Ignis’s expression, as it was hidden behind his glasses. The dying fire was glinting reflections off of the glass. 

“I thank you for keeping my Kuxa safe.” Finally, Gladio seemed to be relaxing, and Prompto smiled, leaning into Gladio feeling like he too could finally relax. 

“Of course. He is, after all, what we have been looking for out here in the wilds.” Ignis shifted, only now putting himself on the offensive. “Which brings me to what we came here for.”

Ignis stood, slowly as to not present as a threat, and moved towards them. Even sitting, the rock put Gladio higher than everyone else. Ignis didn’t seem to want to challenge or question Gladio’s positioning, used to putting himself beneath those of power. 

“The Argentums have come to the Crown claiming the Cha’aka are going against their bargain.” Ignis pressed his glasses up his nose, taking just one step closer to the duo. “They say that you promised protection for the hand of their son. Instead, your tribe is pillaging the land and raiding the towns around. Farms burn and crops are stollen. Murder, rape and famine.”

Without warning, Gladio spit on the ground. Not at Ignis’s feet but to the ground at the side of the rock. “Lies. I will not stand by this slander. You’ve come to me for the truth? Hear it now.” 

Gladio had a fire in his eyes that Prompto had never seen before, a ferocity to do what was right. “The Argentums have mistreated my Kuxa, the sunflower of my life. They call him son when he was just a cast off. They treated worse than slaves. No. My people stick by their bargains, but no son was I given, although I love my Prompto more than words can make sense. 

“I will not protect those who lie and abuse to grow their own power. I sent back their dowry and broke our contract then. We moved to Tleex, away from Lokan. Whatever heinousness they accuse my people of is not done by our hands. I swear by the Ya Yah Yi, I speak truth.”

Ignis nodded, not speaking a word as he considered. One gloved hand was to his chin, eyes unseeing behind the reflection in the glass. 

After what felt like ages, Ignis let out a sigh. “I see. I must inform King Regis of this at once. I believe the situation may be more volatile than we believed it to be.” 

Ignis turned on his heel, and started to walk towards his saddle bag. However, halfway there, he stopped and let out a hum. 

“What happened to those bandits who held Prompto captive?” Ignis turned, knowing eyes on Gladio. 

“I killed them for taking something that wasn’t theirs to take.” Prompto was surprised by how easily Gladio was able to admit it. He swallowed, feeling a strange stirring of emotion in his belly. It was too late for that, and hopefully, Gladio wouldn’t have to kill for him ever again. 

....

After Ignis had pulled a clay bird from his bag and turned it into a real bird, he had sent a message off. They had quickly packed their belongings and headed off, Prompto riding pillion to Gladio. After reaching the road, Ignis and Noctis departed, wishing to see the slaughter of the Niflheim mercenaries for their own eyes. The plan was for them to meet them in Tleex with news and a plan. 

Silently, Gladio and Prompto set off, the pace set by the added weight that Prompto presented to Latse. It was so much so that the night before they were to reach Tleex, Ignis and Noctis had caught back up with them. 

“There is much we must discuss and quickly.” Ignis spoke as he slipped from the back of his Andalusian. His eyes, crystal clear through his glasses showed worry. “We are in the middle of a grave conflict. I believe Niffelheim is going to invade in search of Prompto.”

Eyes wide, Prompto moved to Gladio. He grabbed at his hand, feeling a sudden surge of panic. Gladio was calm, gripping the much smaller hand in his own. 

“What could they want with Prompto?” Gladio set the cup down, eyes strong and unwavering over the fire. 

“They want him for his power. The Emperor believes he holds magic beyond what is known.” Ignis cleared his throat gently, and continued. “Also, the Argentums have declared war against you.”

Gladio tensed then, his expression hardening. 

“Do not worry. King Regis has decided to send his army out to meet with us. I have convinced him you have stolen no sons nor pillaged any villages. We will hold council with Titus when the army arrives in two days.” Ignis only then moved to place out his bed roll, looking tired and worn from the heavy riding over the past several days. 

“It is getting late, and tomorrow will be a big day. Let us rest.”

There was no arguing with the bespectacled man. With the fire extinguished, everyone tucked in to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya Yah Yi - Gods of soul/spirit and truth. From the Tlingt ‘yahaayí’ meaning soul
> 
> I hope you are still enjoying the fic! Protective Gladio is my favorite so of course he is ever prominent in this fic. Thank you for reading this far! I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments!


	9. Kulaaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War and a tribe bred to fight. However the thought that Gladio would die brings Prompto to his knees. He won't let Gladio die for him... but is his solution any better?

The tribal tent city outside of Tleex was busy in the early afternoon sun when they arrived. The calm and serenity that they had left days ago was gone. It was immediately apparent that something drastic had changed. Even the appearance of three horses didn’t stir the normally watchful guards. 

It almost was for a moment as if none of the clansmen knew either of them, pushing past in preparation of something important. Gladio’s hand never left Prompto, finding it odd that after arriving, not a single person recognized him. 

Dismounting, Latse and the two horses carrying the Zi Ta Prince and bodyguard, were led by the lead. Only then, when a servant moved headlong into Gladio’s chest ,did anyone realize their leader had returned. 

Everything happened quickly and in the blink of an eye. Eyes were placed upon them and words were exchanged quickly. They were moved, walking towards a large tent that Prompto had never seen before. The tent was full, and immediately upon entering, everyone stood. 

The four men, relieved now of their horses and burdens, walked to the head of the room. Some bowed at their presence, and Prompto could feel the heat rising in his body. His cheeks flushed. He saw many of them were not faces he recognized. 

“What is this about?” Gladio said the moment they were in front of everyone. A spot had been cleared for them around a large table. 

Prompto’s eyes flicked down, trying to understand what this was all about. The tTable was odd, having a depression in the center of it filled with sand. In the sand were strategic mounds, lines and colored flags sticking out at various points. None of it made any sense to Prompto. 

“We received this three days ago.” Nyx pulled a piece of parchment from a pocket, and handed it to Gladio. 

Gladio’s eyes went wide as he read, and then they narrowed. He looked to Nyx, who simply nodded before retreating into the crowd. “We are at war.”

Prompto felt the murmering around the room, and the floor drop from under him. His hands were out before him, steadying himself on the thin piece of the table he could reach. 

_ War? _ He didn’t understand as the world spun slightly around him. 

“Niffelheim is moving closer to the borders.” One of the many men around the table spoke. Prompto’s mind grasping onto the words to keep him standing. 

“I need to contact my father.” Noctis’s words spoke and Prompto shook his head. 

“You’re Highness.” Ignis spoke, and PrRompto tried looking at the two but found he suddenly felt sick. 

Before anything else could be said, Prompto felt his body heave, and he was able to pull from the table just in time to not ruin whatever sand diagrams had been made. His face felt pale, and the last thing he remembered before falling into a sudden sleep was Gladio grabbing around him and stopping him from falling. 

~~~~

It was night the next time Prompto found himself bolting up, moist rag falling from his forehead. Panic filled him as he looked around the dim tent. Where was he? What had happened? 

Before the tent could even fully come into focus, Gladio’s hand came to his shoulder and Prompto immediately felt a wave of calm rush over him. “What happened?” 

“You passed out.” The words were simple, but Prompto could feel the caring in Gladio’s voice.

“I-” Prompto shook his head, deciding now to just press himself to Gladio. Tears pressed forward and he grabbed onto what little there was of Gladio’s clothing. “I am scared.” 

Gladio returned the embarrassment, wrapping his arms protectively around him. They were silent for a while, Prompto’s nerves calming as he became aware of his body slowly. 

“How long was I asleep?” Prompto yawned as he rested his head against Gladio’s chest. 

“Since mid day.” Gladio placed a soft kiss upon Prompto’s forehead, before letting a long sigh. It was when Gladio’s muscles tensed against him that he knew something bad was coming. 

“They want you.” Gladio spoke, words barely above a whisper, and Prompto mirrored Gladio’s tension. “Niffelheim and your parents.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just-” The words stuck in his throat and the tears that had been threatening came. 

“No. Not in a million moons. Not if the sun refuses to rise. Not if Eos grew cold. I will not give you up to anyone.” Gladio pulled away just enough so as to look at Prompto. His face was serious, yet soft. “I would send my kin to your defense over and over into eternity. You are worth more than you believe.”

Prompto couldn’t speak even if he had words. The overwhelming emotion was so much that he was unsure what he had ever done to deserve it. 

When he was done crying, Gladio brought him food and told him of all their plans. They were to move towards the border and wait for the Zi Ta reinforcements. Gladio would command the horse warriors of his tribe, Iris commanding hers. There were other tribes coming to their aid, and Noctis and Ignis were at the head of their army. In total the military force would be around forty thousand strong. 

Niffelheim was bringing a contingent of men that, according to scouts, was around twice that. Prompto felt his stomach drop as he shifted uncomfortably on their bed. 

“Am I really worth it?” Prompto spoke before he really thought about what he was saying. Gladio grabbed him tightly

“Yes.” The simple answer was enough and although he had slept through most of the day, he was now tired once more and, with Gladio’s scent protecting him from the outside world, they fell into a deep sleep. 

~~~~

The next several days were a blur as Prompto and Gladio, mostly Gladio, prepared for what was to come. Preparing for war was intensive, and Prompto felt that there was a much simpler way to deal with the problem, but he didn’t bring it up again. 

Food and wagons and weapons were compiled. Prompto also noticed there were medics who began to gather. The thing about war was death always came next. Prompto, with his unique powers, was to stay in the white healers tent during the battle. He would not come near the front line. Instead, he would stay protected by a guard, healing the wounded. 

It felt almost like the days before his wedding preparations. Gladio was off being the head of the people, telling them what to do, and more times than not, Prompto found there was nothing for him to do. It wasn’t like he wanted to take part in the war preparations, but he was finding himself lonely. 

He took long rides with Star, an armed guard of two following him wherever he went. It was nice, and yet, in the moment that Prompto wished to be alone, there would be those two unshakeable guards at his heels. Frustration was building with the fear, and Prompto wanted nothing more than to have it all be done with. 

It was with great relief when they began to move, although it did mean they were coming closer to the battle that put a pit in Prompto’s stomach. If everything went as planned, the Niflheim army would be stopped at the border. If everything didn’t, well... That would be a different story. 

The time blurred together so fast that in what felt like the blink of an eye that they were at the border. The scouts had found the Niflheim troops on the other side of it waiting. 

“It seems like they have been waiting for us, either to give them what they want or for a battle.” The scout returned, giving the message to the newly erected war tent. 

“So, we parlay and attack if they don’t back down?” One of the leaders of the Choo kaan spoke, looking to the others for reassurance. 

“Yes.” Iginis spoke, bringing his finger to his glasses in contemplation. “The delegation must be chosen wisely. I will go. I also believe Gladiolus here should attend. Perhaps another gifted in words should accompany us. A parlay should be met with relative peace. If not, our retreat should be swift.”

There was no arguing with this, although Prompto thought this decision was not a good one. What happened if something went wrong? He shook the thought from his mind, and instead focused on exactly how this was going to happen. As it was mid day, they were going to slip into their armor, and head out to reason with this Emperor Aldercapt. 

Prompto followed behind Gladio, wanting to be alone with his husband before he walked into enemy territory. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Again, the words slipped from his lips before he could stop them. 

“I promise I will always come back to you. Nothing will happen. I promise.” Gladio spoke as servants arrived and began putting leather straps over his arms and torso. 

It was odd, seeing Gladio in so much protective gear. It was like watching skin being placed systematically over the artwork body Gladio took so much pride in. He was thicker and bulkier by the end of it, and the curved blade he used was secured on his side as well as a massive blade Prompto had never seen. 

“Please. Come back for me.”

.... 

Three horses disappeared over the border into enemy territory. Prompto had spent a long time pacing back and forth along the line, his guards standing at attention as they watched. It wasn’t until Nyx grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him to his tent, that he stopped. 

Prompto paced, sat, and finally, after a while, felt drowsy after his diner was brought to him. 

When the tent flap finally opened and Gladio returned, it was deep into the night. His guard had changed and Prompto was alert, as if he had not in fact been asleep. 

“What happened?” Prompto asked eagerly, pushing the sleep from his eyes. 

“They feasted us. While we were cautious, we were served from the same plate as Aldercapt. We spoke little, and afterwards we offered our terms. Turn back and leave our lands in peace. Aldercapt refused. Said if we didn’t turn you over, he would never leave these lands alone.

“And then, he let us leave.” Gladio’s shoulders fell as he grabbed a glass from the table and dismissed the two standing by the tent entrance. Wordlessly they disappeared. 

“So?” Prompto felt the knot in his gut tighten as he waited for the answer. 

The eternity that spanned before them came to an end only after Gladio brought the glass from his lips. “We fight. Tomorrow we will fight, and tomorrow you will remain with Libertus in the healers tent.”

.... 

Before dawn, the entire camp was awake. The sounds of metal and leather clanking against each other was sickening. Prompto found that his stomach was not able to hold down food, as he tore chunks of bread from the plate in front of him. 

  
Gladio’s face was set in stone as he shoveled the food into his mouth. The other men in the Aatyadaa were one of two faces; either eager to fight and hungry like Gladio, or nervous and barely eating like Prompto. 

It was strange, seeing men of other nations inside the Aatyadaa. They ate, or didn’t, the same as the Cha’aka or the Gal Nwa or the people of the Xa’as. Even in the short time that Prompto had lived with Gladio, he had come to enjoy the normalness, and accept his role.

Finally, everything was ready, and they lined up in rows of men, holding sharpened silver spears and swords and other weapons that Prompto knew not the name. He looked up at Gladio, his face dark in the rising sunlight. 

“You promised to come back to me. Please, don’t die.” Prompto pushed back the tears in his eyes, not wanting to think of what would happen if Gladio died today. 

“I promise, my sunflower, I will return to your side always.” Gladio leaned down, and kissed him on the lips. It was like electricity passed between them.

Just as quickly, Gladio was pulling away and the men were out of sight as horns blew directing them onward. 

Time dragged on, and Prompto found himself pacing the same spot over and over. The White Medical tent was empty until mid day. When offered food, Prompto refused, his stomach in knots. 

The first injured warrior arrived shortly after, an arrow sticking from his leg. Prompto was hesitant at first to approach, the noises from the man were unbearable. It wasn’t until he was forced forward that he came and saw the arrow being pulled from the wound that Prompto felt a little light headed. 

“Now heal him.” It was a voice that sounded very far away. Prompto shook his head, pushing the dizziness back. His hands connected with a warm sticky liquid attached to the man’s skin;  _ blood. _

Then, there was warmth pooling at his hands. Forcing his eyes open, he saw the white light coming from him close the wound entirely. There was murmuring around them as the man was removed from the white tent. 

The number of injured continued and with each person Prompto healed, his own magic exhausting him time and time again, he felt a pang of guilt. They were injured on his name, his power. Was he worth all of this bloodshed and war?

Covered in blood, the sun finally set and the sound of hooves and horns reached the camp. With the last man healed, Prompto moved. He was exhausted and frustrated and over all upset. He wanted to see Gladio, make sure he was okay. Gladio was the only thing that mattered. 

Prompto found him laughing around a fire while one of the medics from the tent wrapped bandages around his abdomen. Rushing forward, Prompto stopped them, and revealed the wound his husband had suffered. 

“It is nothing.” Gladio promised, although when Prompto placed his hands on the wound, the mighty warrior winced. 

“It is not nothing.” It was with sheer force that Prompto was able to summon his energy to the surface to heal the wound. Slower than it should have been, the wound healed, leaving Gladio and everyone else astonished. 

“Tell me everything.” Prompto begged, collapsing by Gladio’s side and leaning into his body. 

The enemy had met them on the field, lines of metallic men with strange weapons. Gladio described them as ‘more than human,’ and Prompto furrowed his brow at that. 

“How can a man be more than human?” 

But the explanation had been pushed back in favor of the full retelling of the story. The meeting of the two armies had been of epic proportion. Many fell, but it seemed that only the enemy was dying. That was until around midday. A large mechanized machine and a second wave of troops arrived and everything changed. Large explosions and unknown projectiles had started tearing into their lines. The death toll that they had avoided in the morning had crashed hard by the time the field grew too dark to see through. 

“Tomorrow, I fear they may bring more of these unknown weapons to the fight. If that is the case, the fighting may be over quicker than expected.” Gladio spoke, and Prompto realized for the first time that he had been eating bread absently. 

“So,” Prompto sat up, swallowing the food in his mouth. “What does that mean?”

The pit that had been growing in his stomach dropped as he thought about all the death and destruction all for him. 

“Nothing, little sunflower.” Gladio turned and smiled down at him. For a moment Prompto forgot everything that was not contained in those lips and the happiness he felt when Gladio was near. “We will root them out and defeat them where they lay.” 

It wasn’t long after that they turned in, Gladio leading him by the hand to their tent. It was then that he poured water over the bloodstained hands.

“I will protect you.” Gladio spoke, his large fingers rubbing the grime away. 

“I know.” Prompto watched, feeling his skin prick at the touch. It was true, Prompto believed that Gladio would do anything to protect him, even if that thing was dying. The thought was eating him from the inside out. It was a possibility that Prompto couldn’t handle, even as he knew that a life without Gladio would not be worth anything. 

“I promise, we will defeat these metal men and you will never have to worry again.” 

The sweet nothings continued until Gladio fell asleep. Even in sleep, Gladio’s arms held him firmly in place. Prompto remained still, listening to Gladio’s heart beat and feeling the steady rising and falling of his chest. He remained in the warmth and comfort for as long as he dared. 

When he was finally sure that Gladio was deep enough asleep, Prompto slipped from the bed. A soft kwehing met him as he slipped into clothing that had once been buried deep in his trunk. 

“No, Jet. I need you to stay here and watch over Gladio for me.” Prompto squatted down, and placed his hand on the chocochick. Jet was now twice the size he had been when he had been gifted to Prompto. His heart dropped at the idea he would never see Jet or Star again. 

“Everything will be alright.” Prompto confirmed, more for himself than the small bird. “I promise.” 

Prompto scooped Jet up, who kwehed excitedly. He moved across the tent, slipping fully into his shoes. Carefully, he deposited Jet onto Star’s back. He felt the empty hollow in his chest jump as he placed his hand on the short fur of his horse. “You too Star.” 

Prompto forced back the tears that were threatening as he left the tent. He couldn’t stay here any longer or he would change his mind. 

The camp was entirely silent as Prompto moved around tents and sleeping guards. He was sure if he made too much of a sound, the whole camp would be up in arms. That was not something he could handle. 

It was easy, almost too easy, to reach the border of the camp, and the noise that had been lacking there returned as if he’d walked into a wall of sound. The animal noises in the surrounding field were plentiful, the scurrying of rabbits, the humming of night bugs. It was almost as if the battle didn’t exist here. 

Prompto pushed forward, towards the border and the enemy troops. In the dark, the land to the left simply looked flattened and damp. There were no dead bodies remaining on the earth nor any visible signs of battle, spare a few broken spears and arrows. 

“You know this isn’t going to end well for you, right?” The voice came from directly behind Prompto, and he visibly jumped, turned around and fell flat on his butt. 

“Noctis?” Prompto’s eyes went wide as he scrambled to his feet as quickly as possible. “What are you- you can’t be here.”

“I was about to say the same,” Noctis smiled and chuckled. “I know what you are thinking, and it isn’t going to work out the way you want.”

Prompto was standing finally, and he put his hands definitely on his hips. “And what do you expect me to do?”

“Let those of us who can fight do that and not get yourself in trouble, maybe?” Noctis yawned then, and looked back over his shoulder. 

“I can’t do that.” Prompto took a step backwards and shook his head. The tears he had been able to stave off before threatening once more. “I won’t let anyone else die because of me. I am not worth more than anyone else.”

“Even if those someones know what they are risking themselves for?” Noctis seemed unaware that Prompto had moved backwards. 

“Not even then.” Prompto let out a long sigh, and turned. Without any warning, he started running. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and Noctis. He would not let anyone stop him. It was too important. 

Prompto looked over his shoulder, and found that Noctis was not following him. Nor was he behind him at all. He blinked, feeling confusion wash over him. However, he had little time to respond as he turned around and found himself colliding with another body. 

They both cascaded backwards, Noctis dropping the sword that was suddenly in his hands. 

“What happened?” Prompto blinked, looking up at the sky. 

“I can kinda teleport. It's a family trait, you know, royal bloodlines and stuff.” Noctis appeared in Prompto’s vision, a smile curling on their lips. “You know that magic does that, right? Passes along through bloodlines?”

“Well.” Prompto let out a sigh, and shook his head. “It doesn’t help if you don’t know where you came from. I’m adopted.” 

Noctis tossed his hand down to the blonde, the same lazy smile spread on his lips. “Well, you have a family now. Would you really do this to them?”

“You don’t understand.” Prompto said, grabbing Noctis’s hand as they both were dragged to their feet. “I am not worth their lives. I will not let anyone else die for me. How many died today?”

Prompto stood his ground as Noctis thought. Blue eyes looked him over, as if appraising him. Finally, Noctis relaxed his stance. 

“Fifty three people on our side died today.” The words were soft, as if Noctis was hoping that Prompto wouldn’t hear the words. 

_ Fifty three people. _ Prompto shook his head, feeling his resolve stiffen. “That is too many. I am not worth that many people.”

“That isn’t the only reason we’re fighting!” Noctis chimed, stepping closer to the other man. “Aldercap wants to take over Lucis. So we’re fighting for our lands too.” 

“Well,” Prompto stepped away, moving closer to the border and the enemy camp just over the ridge. “I will end the senseless battle. I have a plan.” 

“I’m coming with you. I won’t let you do this alone. It’s stupid.” Noctis took a step after Prompto, making no intention to stop or hinder. 

“Fine.” Prompto frowned, but pushed on. He didn’t look back to see if Noctis was behind him nor did he stop pressing into the camp. There were moves to stop him, but when the people on guard realized he was unarmed, they merely followed him cautiously. 

Prompto knew where he was heading. He knew what he was going to say, and he knew that it was going to be hard. 

The largest tent by far stood in the center of the camp, and Prompto knew that was where Aldercapt was fast asleep. The guards at either side of the tent were too slow to react, and Prompto pushed his way in. 

To his surprise, the Emperor of Niflheim was sitting at a table in the center of his tent as if he had been waiting for him. 

“Prompto.” Old frail fingers stretched out before him, offering an empty seat. The same fingers waved away the remaining guards. “Do take a seat. There is much we must talk about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kulaaw - Mighty battle/war. From the Tlingt ‘kulagaaw’ meaning war
> 
> Of course a chapter named war is going to be tense! I think this is the perfect way to resolve the conflict. But I'll let you decide!
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments.


	10. Tosigoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does happily ever after actually exist? 
> 
> Spoiler: Only once in a million moons.

The Sun rose over the horizon as Noctis supported Prompto on his shoulder and they walked back across the battlefield. There was no reason to hide any more., Tthe battle was over and Niflheim would not be returning to the lands of Lucis any time soon. 

Prompto on the other hand was limping and barely holding onto consciousness. He was covered in blood, none of which was his own. 

“Come on buddy, just a little further.” Noctis coaxed as the sound of a horn tore through the crisp morning air. 

It wasn’t much later that a pair of horsemen came out from the misty grounds. 

Gladio was first off his horse, Latse galloping to also reach Prompto. “My Sunflower.” 

Prompto fell into Gladio’s arms, Noctis backing up as Ignis also dismounted and came to the Prince’s side. 

“What happened?” Ignis asked, one eyebrow raising in speculation at the younger man. 

“I think we should talk somewhere a little less crowded,” Noctis looked over his shoulder, the enemy camp still out of sight, but only barely. 

Gladio rode pillion, Prompto lulling carefully in the strong cradle of his arms as they trotted forward. It was a quick ride, and by the time they were back in the camp, Prompto was feeling better. 

“I can walk.” Prompto insisted when Gladio helped him from horseback. 

To his surprise, he was able to walk without any issue, although he was feeling much more exhausted than he had before. Together, and with a large congregation of people, they moved to the war tent. There was much muttering from the common soldiers, and Prompto was too exhausted to hear what any of them were saying. 

The noise of the war tent hit them like a wall, and for a moment, the sudden roar had Prompto paralyzed. His brain took a moment to comprehend what was going on. As soon as he did, Prompto noticed Gladio’s hand guiding him forward. 

As soon as they made it to the head of the tent, the war board before them, the din quieted. 

“Tell us what happened.” Ignis spoke as he leaned his backside into the solid wood, emerald gems of eyes only for Noctis. 

“I went on a walk last night and ran into Prompto.” Noctis shrugged, refusing to meet eyes with the taller bespectacled man. 

“And the two of you simply trotted into the enemy camp only to return covered in blood?” Ignis raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms.

“I mean, it kinda happened like that, yeah.” Noctis’s eyes flashed to Prompto who felt the heat rising in his checks. 

“Alright then,” Ignis shifted, looking at Gladio, and bowing his head slightly. “Do you mind if I ask Prompto some questions?”

Gladio nodded, glanced down to Prompto. The look was gentle, compassionate, but there was concern and worry etched around the curve of his lips and eyes. “So long as Prompto wishes to answer.”

Prompto nodded softly. He had known he would have to tell everyone what had happened sooner or later. “It's fine.” Prompto reassured his husband, trying to relax as much as possible without falling over from the exhaustion. 

“Will you tell us what happened? We were worried sick.” Ignis spoke in a much more relaxed and calm voice than he had with Noctis.

With a deep breath, Prompto began to explain. No one in the tent made a sound as Prompto explained everything,; leaving the tent because he didn’t want anyone else to die for him, Noctis trying to convince him it wasn’t a good idea, walking into the camp with all the MTs surrounding him. It was then that he paused and looked to Noctis warily. 

“I don’t know where Noctis went when I entered Aldercapt’s tent.” Prompto bit his lip and knew Noctis wouldn’t tell, at least not before Prompto finished his side of the story. “Aldercapt tried to talk to me, convince me to come with him. I was going to agree but everything just felt so wrong, but I was still not going to let anyone else die for me.

“I followed the Emperor through the tent and when a group of guards went to grab me, I-” Prompto shook his head, feeling light headed as he tried to continue, but he couldn’t. 

“He electrocuted them.” Noctis cut in finally. “I’ve never seen anything like it. They grabbed him, and he sent out this aura like a wave. He killed Aldercapt and the men around instantly. That’s when Bethesia showed up.” 

Prompto nodded, feeling a little more stable, having grabbed onto Gladio for the grounding he needed. “He came at me like he had never seen anything like me. It was-” 

“Unnerving.” Noctis spoke, strong enough to draw the attention away from everyone else. “That’s when I came out. I had been hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right moment. I warped, tossing my sword straight into the man’s chest. I don’t think he knew what had happened. After that, no one really messed with us. We left the camp, unfollowed and unhindered.”

There was silence for a moment, only the slight murmuring of some of the congregated pressed the silence. It was then that Prompto realized that the tent was packed from wall to wall, and many were pressing the entrance for more information. 

“So the Empire has been defeated?” It was someone from near the back, but the same words echoed through the crowd. Everyone wanted to know if they had to battle today or if they could return home. 

“Niffelheim has yet to take up battle on the field.” Another voice spoke, louder and more confident than the first. 

“There’s a rider!”

The commotion of this last statement had the tent bristling. Many left, retrieving weapons in preparation for meeting this new rider. So too did the leaders exit the tent, already dressed ready for battle. 

Prompto was led without leaving Gladio’s side as they watched the rider, a single small figure with a white flag on horseback, approach. It wasn’t until she was much closer that they could see she was not a warrior and another rode on saddle back with her. 

The small girl dismounted first, her guard, a barely clad well endowed woman with a spear, directly after her. Gladio was the first to step forward, taking his hand from Prompto’s shoulder for the first time. It was then that Noctis and Ignis stepped forward, following just behind the other man. Unsure of what to do, Prompto followed.

The girl waited, just out of range of the other warriors, and watched as they approached. She held the flag, now digging into the earth, and nothing more. She was small, in a simple white gown. And yet, Prompto felt she was oddly familiar. 

“My name is Solara Aldercapt. I am the heir to the Niflheim dynasty. I have come here to parlay.” When Solara spoke, Prompto knew she couldn’t be more than thirteen or fourteen. So young to be in charge of so much. 

~~~~

Niflheim surrendered, with apologies for the actions of her predecessors. It was then that Prompto learned that the border between Lucis and Niflheim had been in turmoil for nearly sixty years. The new Empress seemed like she wanted to work towards peace, not aggression, and this was something that Noctis seemed rather excited about. 

Solara, and the tribe had traveled three weeks to the capital city of Nu Gi. Everyone else, with the war finished in one battle, returned home to wait for news of the new brokered peace. 

Upon arrival to the outer city, the tribe stopped and made camp. It was only a select few that were going to head into the city, Noctis and his warriors at the head. It was astonishing that they were treated as heros, flowers and streamers tossed before their horses as they moved through the wide cobblestoned streets. Streamers and banners hung from windows and tall structurally sound buildings. Prompto had never seen anything like this. If it wasn’t for Star following close behind Latse, he would have accidentally wandered off. 

The long street led them through the heart of the town, where everything had been put to a halt for their arrival. The Market was larger than the one from Tleex, and the stalls were boarded up as everyone pressed into the streets to see them arrive. Just beyond the market was the upper city. 

Once they had made it through the gates, the streets became immediately less noisy and more serene. 

“The rich live here.” Nyx leaned over to whisper to him, and Prompto could see it. While the streets below had been well taken care of, these streets looked like they were made from glass. The stones were shined and sparkled like gemstones. The noise from the horse hooves upon each perfectly carved paver echoed loudly and announced their presence. 

The streets were full of well dressed men and women, long and intricate silks and furs adorning their bodies. The dresses of the noble woman sparkled in the light like fish playing on the fresh turquoise and aqua. The tunics of the men were heavily embroidered. With all of this alone, Prompto was distracted, and yet the buildings were still even more elegant. 

While the buildings in the city proper were large, well constructed, they were utilitarian. Short long buildings contrasted the tall and richly colored exteriors to the matte browns. Many windows and doors were round instead of rectangular. There were many flower gardens and arboretums around every turn, assaulting Prompto with so many lovely scents that it was overwhelming. 

Yet, those were not the only smells. As they approached the large building in the upper city, a new sweet smell danced through the floral. It was warm and heavy and smelled like vanilla and cinnamon. Prompto’s stomach immediately protested, to Prompto’s dismay. His face flushed as he looked away, but Gladio had already seen. 

The large Aanaawa chuckled, and summoned one of the servants walking on foot with them. Prompto was too distracted to hear exactly what he said, but the woman nodded, and disappeared in the direction of the smell. 

Prompto couldn’t think too long on it as they were soon at the steps of the palace, and everyone was dismounting their horses. Many servants came forth and their horse’s bridles were all taken and the horses clicked away around the corner. 

If Prompto had been nervous before, he felt like he was shaking with it now. Yet, when the others took to the steps without hesitation, Prompto forced himself to meld into Gladio’s shadow. Perhaps if he was quiet, no one would notice he was there. The palace was brimming with bold colors, reds rich and deep, golds and tapestries of black. 

The doors of the palace were thrown wide open before them, a single carpet leading them inside. Marble pillars of white flecked with black held the impossibly tall ceiling above their heads. At the end of the hall sat a single man dressed in all black and trimmed with gold. His gray hair sat atop his head and a simple silver crown protruded from the right side. 

“Welcome home, my son,” The man stood and leaned on his cane as the other hand gestured in front of him. “Welcome to my home, guests from far away.”

Noctis reached the base of the stairs and took to one knee. Everyone else, except Gladio and Solara, did the same. Prompto, frightened, mimicked what he saw, and kneeled. Gladio and Solara on the other hand gave different obeisance. Gladio bowed and Solara curtsied with the short dress she wore. 

“I believe we have much to discuss. Do follow me.” King Regis turned his back and headed behind his throne where he disappeared. 

The procession of seven followed into the small and warm room beyond . The stone chamber felt much different than the grand hall had. Many plush high back chairs littered the room, and Prompto immediately gravitated towards a chair sitting in front of the fire. Noctis too sunk into the other chair before the fire. 

Prompto closed his eyes, pulling his knees to his chest and listening to the voice and the crackling of the fire. The air felt light and before he had realized what was going on Prompto was nodding off. 

It wasn’t until he heard his name being called, that he opened his eyes once more. 

“Prompto.” Gladio spoke, as a large hand was placed on his shoulder. “We are going to talk about your parents and your power.”

The tension that the fire had washed away came back in a wave. Prompto sat up straight, big blues looking into Gladio’s calm features as he chewed on the corner of his lip. Without Gladio saying a word, Prompto felt confident enough to rise from his seat and approach the others all sitting in a circle around a large wooden table. All except Noctis, who was napping in his own chair before the fire. 

“Prompto.” Regis’s voice was stern and yet compassionate. “We have brought your parents here for sentencing. They have stood trial and been found guilty of treason.”

The words took a moment to sink in, and Prompto could merely blink at the old man sitting in the chair. 

“Your siblings have had all their titles revoked from them and their lands taken. They have done a poor job at being my stewards, and their treatment of you is unacceptable.” Regis shifted, pulling a document from his robes and offering them forward. “I left you in their care many years ago, and they were informed to take care of you as they would their own child. I can see now that this is not the case, and for that I apologize.”

“Uh, you don’t have to sir- uh, highness? Oh no, its Majesty right?” Prompto felt his face flush entirely and his heart skipped a beat. To his surprise, the King and Ignis both laughed. 

“Majesty. And it is something I now regret doing. You should have had a much better life.”

“If I might?” Prompto stepped forward, leaving Gladio’s side to stand alone and closer to Regis than he had before. “I wouldn’t have met Gladio if you hadn’t left me with them.”

The heat from the embarrassment left over his face doubled when he realized what he had started to say to the King in front of all these people he barely knew. Now, he couldn’t stop. “I love him, Majesty. I think I have the best of life now because of it.” 

The largest smile that Prompto could have ever imagined spread over the old King’s face. Whatever tension was still left in Prompto’s body left, and he finally realized that he was indeed exactly where he wanted to be. 

~~~~

The ride back to the camp that evening was quicker than the morning ride. The camp was mostly asleep and both Gladio and Prompto had been invited back the next day to take part in a feast. Yet, Prompto couldn’t have cared if they were to spend the whole next day riding or feasting. The camp felt so comfortable and a word that had never felt like reality came to mind. 

“Home.” Prompto spoke as they dismounted and led their horses into the tent. The interior was just as it always was. Jet kwehed excitedly as they entered, almost jumping straight into Prompto’s arms. With a chuckle he caught the bird who made soft noises of contentment. 

“What was that, Sunflower?” Gladio asked, pulling the blankets from Latse’s back. 

“Home.” Prompto scrunched his nose as his hand idly pet the black feathers of his chocobo. “I don’t know your word for it.” 

“Kus’ne Xail.” Gladio spoke, without hesitation and Prompto furrowed his nose as if there was a stink. 

“A place of love.” Even as he spoke the words, Prompto felt his skin prickle as the idea rolled over him. “Yeah. That sounds about right.” 

With the horses situated, slowly drinking at the water in their enclosure, Gladio turned his full attention back to Prompto. “I am so glad you are safe.” 

Many times over their long journey Gladio had spoken these words. Yet, now, as they drew closer together, Prompto felt the words lay heavy and true. “I am glad I am here with you.” 

Prompto could feel the tent grow warmer, and his body react when Gladio pulled him in close. It wasn’t until Jet made a defiant kweh that they separated enough for the bird to hop to the floor and scurry into the horses pen. 

Prompto found himself chuckling, his eyes for the bird alone. 

Suddenly, Prompto found his feet swept from under him. With an indignant squeak, he was in Gladio’s arms as they moved to the pallet they shared. 

He was laid gently on the furs, their warmth immediately pulling him in. Gladio moved over him, legs straddling on either side of his. Gladio’s face came in close, and their lips brushed in a quick kiss. 

“I want you never to leave my side again.” Gladio asked, his eyes and body pleading with him. 

“I will stay here for as long as you will have me.” Prompto’s fingers reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from the amber colored eyes he loved so much. “You are my Kus’ne Xail.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tosigoo - Happily Ever After. From Tlingt ‘toowú s-góo’ meaning to be happy  
> Nu Gi - from the Tlingt ‘noow gai’ meaning fort, shelter or cove. The capital city of Zi Ta  
> Kus’ne Xail - Home or directly translated as “a place of love’ from the Tlingt ‘Neil’ meaning home and ‘kusaxan’ meaning love. 
> 
> All my Tlingt translations were pulled from https://www.sealaskaheritage.org/programs/language%20resources/tlingit_dictionary_web.pdf
> 
> Thank you for sticking through my wannabe Game of Thrones but with Promptio fic. This was my first attempt at writing Promptio and I hope to return to write more as the dynamics have me hooked! 
> 
> I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments. I want to thank my wife for being my first beta and helping me make this fic what it is. I would also like to thank Amitiel for speed editing my fic in 24 hours so it could be in tip top reading shape!
> 
> As always; Walk tall my friends.

**Author's Note:**

> I took the liberty of making a language for this fiction in part. It is a basterdazation of Tlingt (the language of the PNW native people). This was not done maliciously and in fact it stemmed from an adoration of the culture. 
> 
> Cha’aka - Gladio’s tribe. Word taken from Tlingit ‘Ch’aak’ meaning American Bald Eagle  
> Lokan - Prompto’s Parents Village. Word taken from Tlingit ‘lookanáa’ meaning crazy person  
> Lonaal - Town to the West of Lokan. From Tlingit 'lanáalý'. meaning prosperity/wealth  
> Tleex - Town South East of Lokan. From Tlingit ‘tl’eex’ meaning filth  
> Waasdeil - Tent City’s of the Cha’aka tribes. From Tlingt ‘Xwaasdáa’ meaning ‘tarp’ or tent’ and ‘Neil’ meaning home.
> 
> Thank you for reading. I appreciate all kudos and respond to all comments!


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